Learning to Go On
by Roxy Rosee
Summary: "'Don't like to be touched,' Daryl rasped in explanation, staring down at the ground. 'Well, how do you know you don't like it if you never let anyone try' Beth responded, and he had to meet her eyes at that."- Bethyl story (smut, you betcha there's smut) at the prison, taking place between seasons 3 and 4. Read and review!
1. Chapter 1

He'd know he was screwed the moment the words left his mouth. They'd all been sat down at dinner, inner circle all around the table while the Woodbury folks busied themselves elsewhere.

"Daddy, I can't just sit inside the prison for the rest of my life," Beth pressed. This had been going on for over an hour, with Daryl feigning indifference.

"It's not safe for you out there," Maggie insisted, "You'll get yourself killed."

"But I'm never gonna learn how to defend myself if I don't get out there and try."

"There are better ways to learn. Safer ways," Hershel said.

"Like what? Sitting around bouncing Judith in my lap all day," she gave an apologetic side-glance towards Rick, "I _love_ Judith. I do. But I have to learn how to protect myself. And I can't do it by staying here."

"Bethy, I agree you need to learn, but going out on a run with no training isn't the way to do it. You need to be taught properly. You can't just –"

"I'll teach her," Daryl bluntly interrupted, then regretted it immediately when a dozen sets of eyes honed in on him. Including _hers_. "She can do watch with me tonight. Work her way up from there." Daryl shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, but his heart was pounding. _Why did I say that, why? _

"That," Hershel said, "sounds like a more agreeable solution."

Beth smiled at him brightly, and Daryl stuffed another handful of deer jerky in his mouth to hide his blush. It's not as if this was the first time he'd noticed those eyes of her. But he hardly ever looked. And when he did, he didn't let it go on for long. What good could come of it, anyways?

But now Daryl was sitting up in the guard tower, sometime past midnight, and wishing he was sharing his watch with anyone but her. He never felt any pressure to make conversation with Rick, or Michonne. They made it easy to sit in companionable silence, never judgmental of his less then social demeanor. Hell, even one of those Woodbury chicks would be better than this. He could ignore the way they all prattled after him, batting their eyelashes and standing a bit too close. They were easy to scare off; a grunt and a scowl and they'd leave him alone for good.

Six hours. Six hours alone with Beth; now, that was a different thing entirely. Daryl had given up on caring what people thought of him years ago, after the third or fourth time his dad had sent him to school with a shiner. But little Beth Greene made him self-conscious in a way he hadn't felt since he was a kid. It unnerved him. It frustrated him. By and large, it pissed him off.

Daryl heard a loud creak from downstairs, and knew Beth was climbing up to the top of the tower.

"Hey," she said shyly, slipping into the room.

Daryl jerked his head towards her, grunting in response. He eyed her up and down as she walked towards him.

"No weapon?" he asked incredulously, and she stopped in her tracks.

Beth's hands went to her sides, and her cheeks lit up neon pink. Daryl had to bite back a smile at the look of utter surprise and embarrassment on her face. "Shoot! I know I was forgetting…I can go back! I'll just run back and-"

"S'alright," Daryl interjected, "You can borrow mine."

Beth smiled at him gratefully, taking the shotgun from his outstretched hand. He had his crossbow anyways. Never went anywhere without it. She slung the gun around her back, the way Daryl always carried it, and eyed him expectantly.

"Now what?" she asked enthusiastically.

"Whaddaya think? We watch," Daryl said more harshly than he intended. He walked out to the railing and settled down with his back against the wall. Beth followed suit, though keeping a safe distance from him.

They sat in silence for several minutes, and Daryl was starting to think this wouldn't be so bad after all. But then Beth sighed exaggeratedly, and remarked, "It's quiet."

"Mmhmm," he acknowledged.

"It's nice. The prison's hardly ever this quiet anymore. Reminds me of the farm," Beth continued, looking down at her hands suddenly when she realized what she'd said. She tried not to think about the farm so much these days. You had to remember the things you'd lost, but not dwell on them. That's what daddy always said, anyways.

Daryl shot a careful glance in Beth's direction, and saw the sadness in her expression. He racked his brain for anything to say, cursing himself for having no damn clue how to be comforting. Eventually, he decided that changing the subject would be the best route.

"So how come you're so damn set on learnin' to fight?"

"I just figured it was time. I mean Maggie's pretty much fearless these days, and even with one leg, Daddy's as good a shot as anyone. I'm the only one who can't do anything…other than babysit I guess."

"That's doin' somethin'," Daryl tried to assure her.

"I know," Beth sighed, "But I don't want to have to depend on everyone else to keep me alive. I want to protect myself. I want to know that even if I was alone out there, I could survive. Ya know?"

He did know. He knew more than anyone. Though in his case, independence and self-reliance had been forced on him, rather than something he sought to achieve. If he hadn't learned to hunt and track, to fight back, he probably never would have made it to adulthood, let alone survived this long into the damn apocalypse.

"I get that," he finally said. He could feel Beth watching him from the other side of the perch, but he kept his eyes trailed on the handful of walkers lining the prison fences.

"How come you offered to teach me?" Beth asked him cautiously.

Daryl's eyes shot to hers, then immediately resumed their inspection of the dangers outside the gates. "'Cause you're right, everyone needs to be able to fight these days. Ain't no way around it." He nodded towards the gun in her lap. "You know how to use that thing?"

Beth avoided his gaze. "Not really," she admitted.

"Gimme," he demanded, and Beth handed him his gun back.

"Safety, trigger, sights," he instructed, pointing out the parts as he went. He stood up, and demonstrated loading and unloading the gun. "Safety on, safety off. You try it."

Beth was as quick a study as he'd been as a kid, desperate for knowledge. She nimbly unloaded the gun, then loaded it again, and grinned when he nodded approvingly.

"Alright, lemme see your stance," Daryl said.

She gave him a questioning look. "Huh?"

"Aim the damn thing," he sighed. "At the walkers, not me," he added a moment after.

Beth squared her shoulders and pointed the gun out at the fences, with Daryl eyeing her objectively.

Abruptly, he grabbed her by the belt loops and pulled her body around. "Face the thing you're lookin' to hit."

Beth gasped at his sudden closeness, and Daryl immediately took a step back. "Try again," he muttered, after a moment.

This time, Daryl seemed to approve of what he saw. He nodded slowly, "Alright, you can relax now," he teased.

Beth smiled shyly and slung the gun back around her shoulder. Daryl leaned back against the railing in turn, wincing noticeably.

"You're hurt," Beth commented worriedly, but Daryl just shook off her gaze.

"M'fine."

Beth watched him for a moment. "Is it your shoulder? From the bow?"

"Happens from time to time," he confirmed.

Beth continued to watch him, contemplating her next move. "Let me," she finally said definitely, moving towards him. But Daryl instantly tensed, jerking away from her and nearly toppling over the railing in an effort to gain some distance.

His ears burned with embarrassment, with Beth's hand still frozen mid-air. "Don't like to be touched," he rasped in explanation, staring down at the ground.

"Well, how do you know you don't like it if you never let anyone try?" Beth responded, and he had to meet her eyes at that. He'd never really thought of it that way before. Daryl could only stare at her blankly for a moment, mouth hanging open as if a response were hanging from the tip of his tongue.

Taking his unresponsiveness as permission, Beth tried to move towards him again, only to force him back into the corner between the railing and the wall. She'd never seen Daryl look frightened before, and it was even more surprising that _she_ was the one making him feel that way. In truth, she understood why he didn't want to be touched. She'd seen the scars, back at the farm when she'd helped daddy patch him up. But out of everyone at the prison, Daryl deserved a little something good. And if she could ease his pain, well, at least that was a start.

"Daryl, let me help. I'm _good _at this. I'll make your shoulder feel better, I promise," Beth told him.

"I…" Daryl began, wincing when his voice broke. He should have been angry. Hell, had it been anyone else, had it been a couple years back, he might have hit someone for coming at him like this. Even if they _did_ only want to help. But he couldn't be angry at Beth. For one thing, there was no concern in her tone, no pity marring her features. She wasn't doing this because she felt sorry for him, she just wanted to. That much was clear.

"I gotta be able to see you," Daryl said softly, surprising the both of them. Not an outright refusal, not an angry outburst, just a condition.

Beth nodded thoughtfully, glancing back through the open doors of the tower. Her lips broke into a smile when something caught her eye. "C'mon," she said cheerfully, turning on her heel and walking back into the room. Daryl never made the conscious decision to follow her, but nonetheless he found himself immediately at her side, watching her hesitantly.

She led him to the opposite end of the room, where a large couch faced the mirrored wall.

"Sit," Beth instructed, pointing to the couch, and Daryl did so without hesitation. It was near startling when he felt his body hit the cushions. He'd obeyed her without a thought, the same way he'd always done for Merle, and now did for Rick. If he was being honest with himself, he preferred it that way. Letting someone else call the shots; someone he _trusted_; someone he cared for.

He couldn't help but flinch when Beth slid in behind him, but when he raised his head up, he finally understood why she'd insisted on the change in locale. Daryl's eyes met hers in the mirror, and she smiled softly at him.

"You can see me this way, see? Is this alright?" Beth asked him, and Daryl swallowed thickly and nodded, not trusting his own voice at the moment. This was the closest anyone had been to him in years.

And then Beth's hands delicately made contact with his back, and he lost the ability to think. She touched him gently at first, keeping her eyes locked on his in the mirror as she discovered where he hurt worst. But soon her fingers pressed confidently into sore muscles, working at Daryl's shoulders until his body relaxed into her knowing hands.

It didn't take long at all for Daryl to feel secure enough to let his eyes drift shut. And when he realized he was panting audibly at her caresses, then let out an involuntary groan, it was easier that he couldn't see Beth at all. But if she was bothered by his responses to her, she certainly didn't indicate it. Beth just continued her steady, soothing pressure against his shoulders, showing, rather than telling, that everything was okay.

"Scooch up a bit," Beth whispered into Daryl's ear, and he immediately complied. But when Beth knelt behind him, and he felt her wrap her arms around his body, his eyes shot open wide. She was still working at his shoulder, and hardly seemed aware at his sudden change in mood. But now her right arm was wrapped all the way around his front, holding him immobile, and her mouth was inches from his ear.

One hot breath against Daryl's neck and he was shivering in Beth's arms. But Beth didn't pull away, or ask him what was wrong. She just continued her slow torture, touching him in ways no one had _ever_ touched him. Daryl couldn't hide his panting now, that, or the small whimpers he let out each time she discovered a particularly sore spot. There was no way Beth had failed to notice his heated gaze on her from the mirror, or the tightness in the crotch of his jeans.

_It's just a warm body_, he told himself, _just cuz I ain't gotten off in so long_. Daryl's body was moving with the push and pull of Beth's talented hands, and it had his cock rubbing against his jeans in all the right ways. It wasn't because it was _Beth_ touching him. And it sure as hell had nothing to do with the way she was holding him down, keeping his arms pinned underneath hers.

If Daryl hadn't been so uncertain about whether or not Beth realized his predicament, he might have just gotten up and left. But if she _didn't_ realize the thoughts that were running through his head right now, and he took off on her, she'd certainly figure it out then. Beth met his eyes in the mirror and his cock jerked in response, his whole body seizing briefly as he rode out the sharp burst of pleasure.

"Shhh, I've got you," Beth murmured, and Daryl melted into her again, watching with hooded eyes as she coaxed all the tension from his body. Maybe she'd thought it was just her touching him that had gotten him so tense, so suddenly. Or maybe she _did_ know the effect she was having on him, but simply didn't care.

Daryl closed his eyes and tried to get a hold of himself. But without blue eyes and golden hair as a welcome distraction, all he could feel were her arms around him. The way she held him close, held him _still_. It wasn't just the warm body, and it wasn't just that Beth was the one touching him like this.

Beth watched him through the mirror, surprised to find Daryl more relaxed and calm than she'd ever seen him. She had a hunch about the cause. Beth tightened her arms around him, and she got her answer. Daryl gasped and his hips jerked forward, cock rubbing desperately against the fabric of his jeans. Even in the dim light, he could see the dark spot forming there.

Daryl watched Beth look down into his lap from above him, then stare at him through the mirror with a warm smile. _She knew_. Maybe she'd known all along. But if anything, her arms had tightened around him even more, holding him steady and immobile against her chest as she worked away at his sore shoulder.

Daryl was stronger than Beth. They both knew it. There wasn't a doubt in either's mind that he could easily free himself from her hold if he really wanted to.

But he didn't want to. He didn't want to at all.

"That's good, Daryl," Beth whispered into his ear. And Christ, he _shuddered_, he _gasped_, his body jerked towards her instead of away and the only thing keeping him together were Beth's arms around him. _Please, please, please. _But Beth held him tight, hands abandoning their previous cause to embrace him fully.

"Go on," Beth murmured, holding him steady. "I've got you." _So close, so fucking close. _Daryl's hips ground forward reluctantly, cock rubbing back and forth against the denim until he could barely breath.

"Go on, Daryl. I want you to," Beth whispered, looking him directly in the eye. And that was all it took. Daryl whimpered when he came, hips stuttering into the air and body shaking with the force of it. Even after the last spurt had left his body, Daryl didn't stop shaking. His body melted into Beth's as he shivered and gasped for air. So Beth held him tight, keeping her arms wrapped around him until he caught her gaze in the mirror and gave her a nearly indistinguishable nod.

He stood in front of her uncertainly, painfully aware of the dampness in his jeans. Beth rose to her feet to join him, looking him squarely in the eye and seeming far too proud of herself. She watched him carefully for a moment, assessing just how shaken up he was from what had just happened.

"You know, I could take the rest of watch on my own, if you're tired," Beth offered tentatively. Daryl needed time to decompress, that much was clear. And she wasn't going to make any headway with him if he stuck around tonight.

"Yeah," he agreed immediately, clearly relieved. "Could use the sleep." He shouldered his crossbow and was nearly out the door when he turned back to look at Beth one last time.

His mouth opened, but he was lost for words.

"Go on, Daryl," Beth said with a knowing smile. And Daryl's spent cock twitched in interest at her choice of words. _Go on, Daryl. I want you to. _Fuck, he needed to get out of here, and now. He was down the steps and stomping towards the prison before he could suck in a much-needed breath. And he didn't look back, not once, at the young blonde who was watching him from the guard tower.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Well, here it is guys. Having a fun time with this dynamic. Please review!**_

**Chapter Two**

It was days before Daryl could look her in the eye. Two days, to be exact. On the first morning, Hershel and Maggie were eager to hear from him how Beth had done on her first watch. Beth interjected before they'd had a chance to really take in his red cheeks or unduly guilty expression.

"It was _fine_," Beth said in an exasperated tone, "I'm going to take watch with him again tomorrow night."

Daryl's eyes shot up to Beth's, and she gave him a knowing smile.

_That was not part of the plan._

If it was at all possible, Daryl turned an even more vibrant shade of pink.

The night before, after everything had _happened_ up in the guard tower, Daryl had retreated back to the prison and immediately passed out in his bunk. When he dreamt that night, he dreamt of Beth. He dreamt about her bright blue eyes, those eyes that could disarm him with a single glance. He dreamt about her dainty arms surrounding him, holding him together in a way that no one else had ever managed.

Daryl had woken up so close to coming that it was only after three hours at the fences and a cold shower that he was able to join the rest of the group.

_What the hell had she done to him?_

He didn't touch himself, then, because he'd never _needed_ to before. At least, he'd never needed to before Beth. But he couldn't bring himself to do it, and certainly couldn't permit his mind to go to all the fucked up places he knew it would go if he tried to seek out release.

Daryl had never wanted anyone before, much less someone he knew he couldn't have. But now, no fewer than eight hours later, he was wrecked. Last night had been a mistake. Beth wasn't his to take, he couldn't have her. But then again, he hadn't _had_ her last night at all. Christ, she'd had _him_. Maybe he'd never said no or pushed her away, and maybe that made him a weak man, but he hadn't asked her for a single thing.

But nonetheless, she'd…provided. Beth had given Daryl something he never realized how badly he needed. And now, now he was left with this awful craving for something he wasn't even sure he understood.

That night, after dinner, they'd all sat around talking about the good old days, and planning for the future. Daryl had watched fixedly as Beth bounced baby Judith on her lap, entertaining the child while everyone else relaxed. He'd noticed, recently, how no one ever had to ask Beth to look after Rick's little girl. She took on the responsibility consistently and without question, never wary of piling kitchen and laundry duty on top of it. Beth was a lot like him, in that way. She gave everything to the people around her, her family, and asked for little in return.

It hardly registered to him that he was slowly moving towards her as the evening went on. First on the outskirts of the group, then sharing her table, then sharing her bench.

"Ya want a break from her?" Daryl asked, feeling suddenly desperate for Beth's attention. But he punctuated the question with a reluctant yawn.

Beth smiled affectionately at him. "You're tired, Daryl. You ought to get some sleep."

Daryl frowned slightly, stopping himself before it turned to a full on pout. _Dixons didn't fucking pout_. But then Beth reached out with one of those slender hands of hers and lightly touched his shoulder. His breathing stuttered.

"Go on, Daryl," Beth murmured, looking him straight in the eye. He could see the small upward twitch at the corner of her mouth when he shivered violently, stifling a gasp.

Her hand was still on his shoulder, but now moving farther north, fingertips grazing over the exposed skin of his neck and _god_ how was it no one was noticing him coming apart at the fucking seams right now.

"Go to sleep, Daryl," Beth said, her voice taking on an authoritative tone. It was an order this time; one that made Daryl's cock twitch wildly in his jeans. "Go on."

He may as well have sprinted from the room. But whether it was because she told him to, or to hide the painful arousal sprouting between his legs, he couldn't be sure. All Daryl knew was that by the time he reached his cell, he already had his belt unlatched and his fly undone.

Daryl leaned against the wall opposite his bed and fisted himself, hissing when his aching erection met the cool air. He stroked himself firmly, for the first time in years, and the friction was already far too good. He bit down on his lower lip with extra vigor, in an effort to remain silent; but it was a hard thing to do when every downward stroke had his balls twitching upwards and his cock leaking a steady stream of white.

He trailed his free hand up his body, feeling the shoulder that Beth had touched, the length of his neck that her fingertips had grazed. And with _her_ name on his lips, Daryl exploded in pleasure. He came with a loud moan that he reckoned none of the others had heard, else they would have come running. Daryl panted his way through his orgasm, hand never ceasing its movements on his slick member, eyes clenched tightly shut.

When he opened them, though, the blonde-haired angel that now haunted his dreams was leaning against the door of his cell, smiling. He blinked twice, but she remained static as ever, with pupils blow wide in what Daryl hoped was lust.

And then she glided those few steps it took to stand directly in front of him, where he was still slouching breathlessly against the wall with cock in hand. She'd seen him. God, she'd seen _everything_. But she didn't look disgusted, or the least bit upset.

Beth's smile never wavered as she plucked out the red rag that she knew was in Daryl's back pocket. She placed it in his free hand, and guided him to clean himself off, then tuck himself back into his jeans. Beth never touched more than the back of his palm, and only with her fingertips. But it was enough. She zipped up his fly carefully, and he watched her hands. She was close enough that he could feel her breath on his neck.

"Thought I told you to go to sleep," Beth gently chastised. Daryl blushed as his lust-fueled desperation began to fade.

He watched her cautiously, perpetually unsure of what to say.

"It's alright, I'm not mad," Beth murmured, toying with the collar of his shirt while maintaining his gaze. Part of him wanted to angrily burst out with something along the lines of _I can do whatever the hell I want, little girl, _but a larger part was so relieved at her acceptance that he simply sustained his silence.

"Bet you feel much better now, huh?" Beth whispered soothingly, and Daryl could only nod.

"Go sit on the bed, Daryl," Beth commanded, and he obeyed readily, watching her follow his path over to the bunk.

When she got down on her knees before him…_god_, the places his mind went. But any worries or wants were quickly whisked away when Beth methodically unlaced his boots and slipped them off his feet. Sitting on the edge of his bed, she pushed against his good shoulder with the lightest of pressures, until he compliantly lay back.

Beth smoothed out his blanket over him, tucking it in tightly around his sides until he sighed contentedly. He wanted to be angry at the way she was coddling him, but drained as he was, all Daryl could do was savor it. Vaguely, it occurred to him that maybe he wouldn't flinch quite so noticeably when Carol or Rick went to pat him on the shoulder if he were this sated all the time.

Beth watched Daryl's brow crease with the unfamiliarity of what was happening, then settle as he accepted it. She thought to herself that this was probably what Daryl craved most. Infants fresh from their mother's wombs loved to be swaddled, wrapped tightly in blankets to remind them of the comfort of being inside their mothers. Daryl sought out that same comfort. And maybe he didn't understand why, but Beth did, and that was plenty.

"You're not going to touch yourself tomorrow, Daryl. Do you understand? Not at all before we take our watch together," Beth said, but with so much tenderness in her voice that for the first time, Daryl found it in him to speak.

"Yeah," he agreed, nodding.

She smiled down at him, "Good. Now, go to sleep, Daryl. I won't tell you again."

And with that, Beth left him. It was hardly a minute more before he was dreaming again.

TWDTWDTWDTWD

Beth didn't make it easy for him to follow her directions.

Daryl woke up the morning after Beth had caught him…Beth had _watched_ him…Christ, he couldn't even admit it in his own mind. But he'd woken up that next morning hard as a rock, dreamy visions of Beth doing things he'd never admit to wanting aloud still drifting through his subconscious.

He hated himself for wanting her this badly. He hated himself even more for the way he bowed to her every command, and how much he _enjoyed_ it.

Daryl hadn't woken up with morning wood since he was a teenager. His body had taught itself to be constantly tense, prepared for the next attack. As it was, he'd never been able to predict when his dad would come home drunk or angry or both. But that hazy morning arousal…that was a state far too vulnerable for Daryl to succumb to willingly. And eventually, the need was extinguished unconsciously as well. He had more important things to focus on. Like _surviving_. Like hunting for food and finding his way home through the woods at night.

But now, all those pesky hormones he'd ignored as a teen were back tenfold, pumping through his veins and leaving him irreversibly heated and on edge. So when Daryl awoke, body already over-sensitized and begging for release, he'd booked it straight to the showers, hoping a sharp burst of cold would rectify his problem.

Cruel bitch that fate was, Daryl walked in to find the showers already in use. By _her. _Arousal slammed into him hard, as did the realization that in all the fucked up fantasies he'd had about Beth over the last couple days, he'd never once tried to picture her naked body. No, the Beth in his dreams never _needed_ to be naked to reduce him to a shuddering, whimpering mass.

She was a sight to behold. Body tight and lithe and slick, blonde hair flowing down her back in careless waves. She was turned away from him, though only slightly, and he could see everything. His crossbow hung uselessly at his side and his mouth gaped open as he watched her, utterly fixated.

And then Beth looked over her shoulder at him, not seeming the least bit surprised to see Daryl standing there panting hard. She shot him the gentlest of smiles, eyes ghosting over his body to the point where his cock was tenting the front of his jeans.

Daryl's mouth was slack as he watched Beth rinse the soap from her hair, shut off the water, and dry off her body limb by perfect limb. She pulled on a t-shirt and shorts, picked up her things, and strode confidently over to where Daryl was leaning against the wall.

Her eyes darted down to where he was nearly busting out from the protruding zipper.

"You remember what I told you?" Beth asked him, and he nodded quickly, sucking in a much-needed breath.

Her hand ghosted over his flannel-covered chest. "You'll be good, won't you Daryl?" she whispered.

He nearly keened over her sultry tone.

Dull throbbing resonated outwards from his lower abdomen, and suddenly Daryl was utterly certain that he could come without a single touch, just from Beth's intimate words and piercing eyes alone. He gritted his teeth and his hands balled into fists at his sides. Beth watched with interest as he slowly regained control. His breathing slowed and he was finally, _finally_ able to look her in the eye.

"Yeah," he rasped. Words weren't working for him, at the moment.

Beth flashed him the most innocent of smiles, and took her leave. Every flash of blonde for the rest of the day, no matter the distance, had him biting his nails into the palms of his hands. Daryl's world was spinning. His control was fleeting at best. But he wouldn't see her again, not up close at least, until their watch that night.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Oh, the angst. Read and review!**_

**Chapter Three**

Daryl leaned against the railing of the guard tower, fiddling incessantly with his bow, and watching Beth stride unhurriedly across the yard towards him. He felt the way his entire body tightened at the sight of her, anticipation weighing heavily on him as his heartbeat picked up dangerously and blood rose to his cheeks. He was half hard already, just knowing what she was…_ probably_…coming up here to do.

But even with Beth, Daryl couldn't be too sure of anything. She'd made him wait once, what if she decided another day wouldn't do any harm? He wasn't so sure he could make it. Not when just the sight of her in a baggy t-shirt and shorts had the front of his jeans tightening uncomfortably.

Beth slipped quietly into the guard tower, and Daryl stood uncertainly half-inside and half-out, waiting for…he wasn't sure what.

"Come sit down, Daryl," she said immediately, and the relief at her direction troubled him. But nonetheless, he went straight for the couch, resuming his position from two nights before.

His angel strode seamlessly to his side, sitting on the couch next to him and pinning him with her eyes. "We need to talk. Before this goes any farther."

Daryl felt his chest cave in painfully.

_Of course she don't want this. Dunno what the hell I was thinking. Ain't any girl alive who'd wanna take on a mess like this…_

"S'alright if ya don't wanna…I ain't good for ya…" he mumbled almost intelligibly, but before he could get away from her, he'd been jerked back to the couch by the collar of his shirt.

"Shut up and _listen_," Beth hissed, with more force behind her command than Daryl had heard from her. He stilled, refusing to look her in the eye, but waiting for her to continue.

"Daryl, if I didn't want this, if I didn't want _you_, then I would have stopped this when I noticed how you…_reacted_…to me the first time we were in this tower together."

The hunter still refused to chance a glance in her direction, but Beth saw the way his posture relaxed at her words.

"And I know talking about this is probably the absolute last thing you want to do, but I need to know we're on the same page. So no one gets hurt, you understand?"

There was a pregnant pause, until Daryl grumbled, "M'too old for ya."

Beth tsked lightly, "No, you're not."

"Your daddy wouldn't like it; or your sister…"

"Well lucky for the both of us, I don't take their opinions as law. And anyways, we both know good and well that you are in no way 'taking advantage' of me."

Daryl jolted, and looked down to discover Beth's hand on his knee as the obvious cause. He looked at her this time, right in the eye, and she smiled softly at him.

"We haven't done anything, yet. Nothing serious, at least. And we could leave it at that, if you wanted. But if you want this to go any further, then I need you to be clear about what exactly you're looking for."

He peered at her anxiously from beneath his bangs, "That what _you _want? Further?"

"Yes," she replied simply. "And I understand that maybe you're not sure what exactly you want from this. But maybe you can tell me what you _don't _want?"

Daryl stared hard at the ground, and one obvious thing came to mind. "Shirt's gotta stay on," he eventually rasped.

Beth wanted to assure him that she'd seen the scars, and that they didn't matter to her. But she could see well enough that Daryl wasn't ready to have that conversation. Someday, he'd trust her enough that when she told him his scars were really badges of his strength, he'd believe her. But if she pushed him now, he might just retreat further into himself.

"Okay," she agreed immediately, "Anything else?"

When his brow furrowed in concentration, but he remained silent, a thought occurred to Beth. And though she realized he'd likely be indignant, or embarrassed, or both, she couldn't let it slide.

"Daryl, have you…done this before?"

He evaded her gaze, and shrugged.

"Don't avoid the question, Daryl," Beth said firmly, and his mouth opened before he could reign himself in.

"Some of it."

Beth sighed. "You've got to give me more than that."

She watched as one of his thumbs went to his mouth, allowing him to gnaw steadily at it as he ground out the words. "Fucked a couple girls…from behind…so they couldn't touch…" He cut himself off mid-thought, it seemed, unable to properly explain.

"So this is fairly new," Beth surmised.

He nodded, "S'pose so."

"And you'll tell me if there's ever anything you don't like? Or if you need to stop?"

"Yeah."

She placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to garner his full attention, and Daryl shivered at her touch. Beth smirked knowingly, realizing how feather-trigger his nerves must be already, let alone with the current topic of conversation.

She raked her nails along the top of his thigh, and Daryl gasped, hand fisting the worn red leather of the sofa until his knuckles went white.

"Oh, you don't want to do the talking part now, do you Daryl?" Beth murmured, eyes travelling lazily up and down his flushed body. She was drawing figure-eights over the denim of his jeans, and his hips twitched each time her fingers inched closer to where he needed them most.

"Have you been good for me?" she whispered in his ear, fingers teasing the small patch of skin visible at his waist.

He nodded jerkily, then moaned aloud when he felt Beth chastely kiss the sensitive skin at the hollow of his neck.

But then Beth's hands disappeared from him, as did the warmth of her body at his side, and he couldn't help but let out a disappointed groan. He opened his eyes and she was standing in front of him, watching him fixedly.

"When I ask you a question, you need to answer me, Daryl," Beth said, running one hand affectionately through his hair and smiling when he leaned into her touch. "No grunting, and no shrugging it off. So I'm going to ask you again, were you good for me?"

"Yeah," he breathed out.

She gazed down at him warmly, "I knew you would be. Now, stand up."

He did as she asked, standing uncertainly in front of her with his arms hanging limply at his sides.

"I'd like to try something with you, but I need to know that you'll stop me if it ever becomes too much."

There was a pause, before Daryl realized he was expected to speak again. "I'll stop ya…if I need to."

"Good," she purred, and took a step back from him. "Why don't you kneel in front of me, hm?"

He did it without question, letting his head hang down towards his chest and trying to control his breathing. She stepped around to his back, being sure to catch his eye in the mirror and stroke soothingly at his shoulders as she stood behind him.

"Nothing to be worried about," she murmured soothingly into his ear, feeling the way his body was trembling. She plucked the red rag from his back pocket, the one that he'd clearly found time to clean since the previous night, and gave his shoulder a firm squeeze.

"Put your hands behind your back," she instructed. And once he had, she quickly bound them together with his trademark rag, wrapping them tightly in a complicated knot that she knew he wouldn't get loose.

Daryl tested the homemade cuffs at his wrists, pulling slightly, and hissing when the fabric bit into his skin. The realization that he couldn't get free, even if he wanted to, had him panting. A part of him wanted to protest that he shouldn't feel so secure and aroused with his hands bound behind his back. It was _dangerous_ to be like this, vulnerable. But Beth was behind him, placing feather-light kisses down the length of his neck, and every small touch made him want this all the more.

"Do you want me to touch you, Daryl?" Beth murmured against his skin, and his cock pulsed in response, precum oozing out of his slit and forming a dark spot that he knew she could see.

"Beth…" he whispered.

She walked around to his front, grazing her fingers tenderly over the contours of his face. Her body sang at the expression she found there, equal parts arousal and need. His baby blues were pleading with her, pupils blown wide and mouth slack.

"What did I say about using your words?" she gently chastised.

"I…I…" He licked his lips once, and then again, staring up at her. "_Please_."

The word was punched out and broken, as if he'd never used it before.

Beth knew as soon as she heard the utter desperation in his tone that she would need to hear it again. She wanted to hear it sprinkled amid a slew of begs, his gruff voice flowing with every filthy desire in his mind, pleading with her for everything, for anything. One day she'd keep pushing him. She'd make him talk her through every small movement of her fingers, or perhaps even her tongue.

But right now, now she knelt down in front of him, hands travelling slowly up to the sides of his neck and toying with his collar.

"Is it just your back, or your chest too?" Beth said, and he knew what she was asking.

"Just…my back. I guess," he grunted out, then immediately felt her deft fingers undoing the buttons of his sleeveless flannel. She was slow about it, methodic, and close enough to his body that he was sure she could hear his heart slamming against his chest.

She stopped when his shirt was hanging open. Slowly, carefully, and keeping Daryl's eyes on her every movement, Beth dipped her head down towards his newly exposed skin, placing the lightest of kisses on his sternum.

Beth explored him with her mouth, moist lips and strong tongue stroking and flicking over every inch of his chest and abs. She had her entire body pressed to his front, and he was sure she could feel every twitch and pulse of his straining cock against her belly. But every small touch she gifted him was just as good at the last, blotting out any embarrassment about how quickly he'd come undone by what little contact she was offering him.

Only a handful of doctors and nurses had ever touched his chest, on the few occasions he was forced to go to the ER rather than tend to his own wounds. And even then, being stitched up by a stranger didn't cast a shadow on the way Beth was worshipping him with the smallest of touches.

It was torture; and it was bliss.

Daryl felt the supreme urge to beg.

He fought to keep his eyes open, if only to watch her watching him.

"You like that, don't you?" Beth hummed, running her finger tips up Daryl's torso and making him shiver. Her hands paused at his nipples, flicking back and forth and pinching just enough to sting. Daryl's entire body jolted at the unfamiliar sensation that was sending shock waves of pleasure straight to his cock.

"Yeah…" he nearly whimpered. His hips bucked forward unintentionally, seeking the small amount of friction Beth's body could provide.

"Be still for me, Daryl," Beth demanded, but in the gentlest of tones. He wasn't sure if he could do that for her. Not with his member twitching uncontrollably each time she puffed hot breaths of air against his neck.

But then he felt, rather than saw, one of her hands trail down his chest and settle over the bulge in his jeans. Any teetering control he might have had was instantly lost, and quite suddenly, Daryl was grinding against her. Frantically seeking out the relief he'd denied himself all day long.

Beth's hand disappeared, as did the delicious friction, and Daryl whined aloud.

"Please, Beth…please…I…I need…_please_…" he panted out with each labored breath.

"You need? What do you need, Daryl?" Beth murmured, voice dripping with honey.

He clenched his eyes shut, briefly, gathering the wherewithal to say it out loud.

"You," he finally rasped. It was the most he could muster.

Beth's fingers were back at his nipples, teasing him.

"You have me," she assured him. Taunted him. "What do you need me to do for you, Daryl? I need to hear you say it."

"I…I…" he stuttered blindly, staring into the blue pools of her eyes, utterly transfixed. All at once, he managed to say it. "Make me come. Please, Beth. Please lemme come."

His expression was so open and whole, Beth couldn't disappoint him. She jerked open his belt and undid his fly smoothly. And when Beth grasped his aching length, Daryl had the fleeting thought that she _must_ have done all this before.

There was no hesitancy in the way she touched him. Her grip was firm, twisting ever so slightly at the head to make him squirm on every downward stroke. Daryl's head fell to Beth's shoulder, and he moaned into her skin. He babbled incoherently into her neck, _please please please._

It was only a few strokes more before Daryl was coming _hard_. He trembled as his orgasm overtook him, punching out a guttural moan from deep in his chest and whiting out his vision. Beth seemed to know the exact moment the sensation became too much. And with her free hand, she tenderly stroked his hair.

"You did so good, Daryl, that was so good," she murmured to him. And even though her words shouldn't have made him feel as good as they did, he succumbed easily to her soothing tone.

Sated as he was, Daryl barely registered when Beth deftly untied his hands, and gently cleaned his come from himself, and her hand, and the floor.

"Come on," Beth sighed, pulling Daryl to his feet, "We ought to get back to work."

Daryl hesitated in front of her. "I thought…I mean…ya don't….ya don't want anything from me?"

This was twice now that she'd gotten him off with nothing in return. Daryl didn't take well to charity, and being on the constant receiving end of her…_kindness_…didn't sit well with him.

Beth gave him an appraising look. "Would you know where to start if I did?" she asked him, then immediately kicked herself for the way his face fell as if he'd been struck.

"I didn't mean it like that," she immediately amended, "What I meant was, you and I have a lot to learn, about each other. And it can't all happen in one night."

Daryl nodded, but seemed unconvinced. "Don't want this to be one-sided, is all," he mumbled.

Ignoring the way he startled when she did it, Beth stepped quickly towards him and wrapped her arms around his middle. "I know you might not understand it, but I get off on what we do as much as you do, Daryl. Probably more. You're giving me something just as important as what I give you. And, I _need_ it. I really do."

She felt him drape one arm tentatively around her shoulder, applying a slight pressure, then pull back. He stared at her a beat.

"Why?"

It came out gruffer and more accusing than he'd intended. But when Beth immediately frowned, pain flashing across her eyes, guilt overtook him.

"Another night?" she asked, in a small voice. She was pleading with him, for this.

He would have agreed to anything, if it made the pain on her face disappear.

"Yeah," Daryl immediately replied, "'Course."

Beth smiled gratefully at him.

She swung her gun over her shoulder and looked out over the railing.

"So Mr. Dixon, what's the lesson for tonight?"


	4. Chapter 4

_**And just in time for the premiere, this Sunday. And Sunday just happens to also be my birthday. Clearly not a coincidence. Read and review!**_

**Chapter Four**

It was an easy routine, predictable, and for that Daryl was grateful. There would be a day and a half of torture. A period when every time Beth would brush past him, he'd thrum with desire. But he couldn't touch her. And he couldn't touch himself. So he'd simply wait.

And then there would be the nighttime, every other night to be exact, when he and Beth would take watch together and she would right his world. The heat would build up inside of him, sparking his veins alight, until that magic moment when he would kneel down in front of Beth's perfect form, and she would touch him for the first time.

Her touch was devastating. It made his world collapse in on itself until there was nothing left but _her_.

Every ghosting grace of her fingertips over his scarred body was a form of worship. Daryl realized that now, after two weeks of her careful caresses. She never did more than stroke him with her hand, explore the rest of him with her fingers and mouth. But the realization that Beth really did want him like this, that she wasn't going to stop out of the blue, made the experience so much better.

She told him all the time, how good he was, how proud she was of him for holding out. He received more praise and affection from Beth in their few weeks together than he'd gotten in the entirety of his fucked up life.

Her words were what made things whole. Even in their public life, walking about the prison and just living each day, Beth found ways to hold him steady. She told him when to eat and when to sleep. She made sure he didn't volunteer for each and every run, and that he had his cuts and bruises looked at by Hershel after returning from a hunt. Daryl had never felt so cared for in his entire life, and though it frightened him, and sometimes unnerved him, he also undeniably craved it.

There was moment Daryl looked forward to above all else, in the late hours of each evening, when Beth would come by his cell. She would tuck him in, and sit at the edge of his bed, speaking softly to him for a while. She would ask him about his day, and tell him about hers. She would gently stroke his hair, massage his scalp. Sometimes she'd let him lay his head on her lap. And sometimes, he'd press a gentle, chaste kiss to the inside of her wrist, catching her off guard.

Daryl had never felt this close to anyone before. Not that he had much to compare it to. He'd never let anyone _get_ this close.

Last night, though, last night was a different kind of beast.

She'd pushed him too far.

It had started out just like every other night they spent together. Hands tied behind his back, on his knees in front of her, letting Beth have free reign over his body. It never took long to get him trembling, every small touch a punishment that he'd gladly bear if only to spend a few more minutes with her. And Daryl had gotten better, as things had gone on. He didn't hesitate to tell her what he wanted now. _Please. Touch me. Need you. Make me come_.

But last night, it hadn't been enough. Teasing touches, barely-there strokes, flicks of the tongue lashing over-heated flesh. And yet, nothing he said seemed to sate her. It went on that way for nearly three hours. Beth would show him the briefest amount of attention, perhaps fondling the head with one moistened finger, or rolling and cradling his low-hanging balls. But then she would be gone again, loading and unloading her gun, checking the perimeter.

He could only continue kneeling there on the floor, and wait for her. Daryl moaned for Beth, he whimpered and writhed at every sensation. She massaged the glands under the head with one hand, and kept a firm grip on his nuts with the other, preventing them from drawing up towards his body.

"Beth…."

She hummed idly, watching him thrum in his hand. His thighs were shaking violently now, trembling from her touch, as well as the effort of maintaining this position for so long.

"Beth, please…" he whimpered.

Her eyes remained focused on her task.

"Beth…I can't. Please, Beth. I'll do whatever you want. Lemme come…I've gotta… I can't…_please._ Fuck, please, please Beth, please," Daryl groaned desperately.

He _begged_ her.

He begged her, and it didn't make a lick of difference. She continued her measured torture, never once looking him in the eye. And that's when Daryl snapped, because he didn't beg. Daryl learned the futility of begging when he was six years old. Tied to the tree out back, blood pouring down his back, pleading with his dad to _stop_, _please stop_. But he didn't stop, not until Daryl had passed out from the pain.

"Stop," Daryl whispered aloud, and was again ignored.

"STOP!" he shouted, lurching backwards against the couch to get out of her grasp. "I can't…I can't do this…I _can't_…" he near sobbed, rubbing his wrists raw in an effort to get free.

Now that got Beth's attention. Immediately she was at his side, ignoring the way he flinched away from her touch, curled his body in on itself as if he were about to be struck. She worked quickly to untie his hands, allowing the freedom to push himself even further away, leaning against the couch for the support and raking one hand painfully through his hair.

"Daryl," Beth whispered. And she was looking at him now, really looking. "Daryl."

"M'sorry," he mumbled to the floor, "Can't do it. Can't do it for you. M'sorry."

"Shh, don't say that. You have nothing to be sorry for," Beth immediately replied, and Daryl met her eyes in surprise. Though he'd never seen Beth angry before, he figured this, of all things, would draw that out of her. He'd…_failed_. _He wasn't good anymore, not nearly good enough, she wouldn't want him…_

"Daryl, I'm so sorry," Beth whispered, inching towards his side but keeping her hands to herself. "This was all my fault. I shouldn't have kept denying you like that. I wanted to see how far…I should have seen it. I'm so sorry Daryl."

Daryl was still shaking hard, but this time, when she reached out a hand to cup his cheek, he didn't flinch away. Encouraged, Beth pulled Daryl against her, kneeling at his side and pressing his head into her shoulder. She rubbed his back in small circles, murmuring apologies into his hair, waiting for the trembling to die down.

After a long while, Daryl eventually seemed to calm.

"Come sit with me?" Beth suggested. A question, not a demand. Daryl complied, situating himself next to her on the couch with a deep sigh.

Beth turned to face him, hands still moving against his scalp. "Daryl, what just happened?"

He bit steadily at his lower lip before answering. "You've seen my back," he began.

Beth nodded, "At the farm."

"You know how I got 'em?"

He'd never said it aloud. Not to anyone. But there were only so many options.

Daryl wouldn't look her in the eye. "Your dad?"

He let out a breath through his nose and clenched his hands into fists. Daryl gave her a minute nod. "Can't…can't beg ya. Can't ask ya like that and have ya just…I can't…" He stopped himself short, struggling to find the words.

But Beth understood. It was about trust.

"It won't happen again, Daryl, I promise. I never should have let it go on that long." He nodded his agreement, but remained quiet. "But Daryl…I never would have _left you_ like that, you know that right?"

He gave her an uncertain glance, but the fact that he was finally _looking_ at her said everything.

"And anyways," she added lightly, "You're so sexy when you come for me. I'd never pass up watching you do that."

Daryl let out an embarrassed huff and blushed lightly, but finally raised his eyes to meet hers.

Beth gave him a soft smile, "Daryl, a while back you told me you were worried this was one-sided." Her hand went to his neck, thumb moving in soothing circles. "Do you still want to touch me?"

Daryl's eyes widened in surprise. "I…yeah…'course I do."

Beth beamed at him, and startled the man further by quickly straddling him, trapping his still half-hard cock between them.

"I'm going to kiss you, Daryl," Beth whispered. Fair warning. And then she leaned in slowly, and pressed her lips to his.

It took him by surprise, and for a moment Daryl was frozen underneath her. But then Beth's tongue traced his lower lip, and from that moment on, he was _hers._ He moaned against her, mimicking every movement of her lips and tongue. When she bit playfully at him, he growled into her mouth, and Beth felt his hardness twitch against her stomach.

_That's much better_. Beth took him firmly in hand, stroking him fast and hard. And immediately, Daryl was bucking up into her clutch, groaning out her name with every breath and praying for release.

It was all too familiar, aside from the intensity. But then Daryl realized one significant difference: his hands. They were free, available, with no cuffs or instructions impeding him from touching her as he wished. Though to be fair, Daryl wasn't entirely sure how he wanted to touch Beth, or how she would want him to touch her.

So he went the safest route, splaying one palm over the small of her back, and letting the other hand twist into her golden locks, scratching gently as she often did for him. Daryl felt pride swell up inside of him when Beth began to make soft sounds against his lips, sounds of _want_.

_She really wants me. She's letting me do this_.

After that, Daryl was completely lost.

"That's it, Daryl. You're so good."

He was moaning too loud. But every time her fist twisted over the head, his entire body throbbed.

"I know, I know how close you are. Just barely holding back for me, aren't you?"

Daryl whimpered, then moaned anew as he felt Beth gently caress his balls.

"Let me hear you," she murmured to him. "Touch me, Daryl. Come for me."

After being denied release so many times, tortured incessantly, Daryl was pretty much hair-trigger. And in the end, he came without warning. His back arced up off the couch, and he pulled Beth against him, wanting as much contact as possible. Even her mouth against his couldn't muffle his desperate moans. His orgasm wrecked him, barreling through him and leaving him twitching in the aftermath.

Daryl held her like that for some time, cock still throbbing every so often with the aftershocks of his pleasure. He'd never come that hard before, or for so _long_, and he was surprised he was still breathing.

Eventually, his breathing began to even out, helped along by the butterfly-light closed-mouth kisses Beth kept pressing to his neck and his cheek and his brow. She pressed her forehead to his, reveling in the moment.

Daryl's eyes were locked onto hers. "Can I…?"

She smiled gently at him. _Of course, you silly man._ "Always."

Beth saw his lips quirk in a smile, and then he was kissing her again, slow and deep, but mostly just grateful. The few girls Daryl had kissed in his life, it had always just been a prelude to sex. He'd thrust his tongue into their mouths, minimizing any time he'd have to spend with them face-to-face, then thrust them up against the closest wall and get on with it.

Kissing Beth…it almost hurt. It made him feel closer, rather than farther away. Beth broke away from him for air.

"Was that…?" he asked uncertainly.

She understood what he meant. _Am I good enough?_

"You're awfully good at that," she teased, "We'll have to put that mouth to good use more often."

Daryl blushed, but gave her a relieved grin.

"From now on, you can kiss me whenever you want to, Daryl. Though I wouldn't recommend doing it when my dad is around. You don't have to ask permission. I'm always going to want it."

_I'm always going to want you_, Daryl heard. He kissed her again, for good measure.

Beth giggled in his lap, "Alright, we ought to get back to work."


	5. Chapter 5

_**Thank you guys so much for all the reviews, and please keep it up! It inspires me to write more and faster and better x**_

**Chapter Five**

At first, Daryl never sought out Beth's lips without an invitation. They'd be in the cafeteria by themselves, or alone in his cell at the end of the night, and he'd beg her with his eyes. He wanted that closeness, he wanted to touch her and for her to want him to touch her, but he had no idea how to ask her for it.

Daryl would stare her down for all he was worth, eyeing her lips and biting at his thumb hopefully. And she'd always assent, leaning into him and letting him claim her mouth and her tongue and her hair.

Beth didn't tie him when they kissed now. Not unless he asked for it. And generally, he only wanted that when they were sure they were alone. Up in the watch tower, late at night, he would ask Beth to tie his hands behind his back. Well, not ask as much as eye her heatedly until she understood. She was always cautious about it now, paying special attention to every soft noise he let out, every minute expression, to be sure she wasn't pushing him beyond his breaking point.

Now, when he asked her for something, she gave it to him straight away. _Touch me. Make me come. Please._ Though, she did often insist that he use his words, rather than simply grunting and moaning for more.

Up in the tower, he was hers. He did everything she asked, waited patiently for direction, and never once feared that she'd push him away.

But those carefully stolen moments together, in his cell late at night, they were different now. The first time she'd climbed into his lap, Daryl had nearly died of shock. This wasn't their usual routine. Most nights Beth would sit by his side, soft touches showing, rather than telling, how much she cared. Daryl had never been looked after before, and he knew that craving that warmth and affection was risky, but there was no going back.

And it started just like that, with Beth stopping by just after dinner to settle him down in a way only she could. He was sitting up in bed in only his boxers and an old shirt, and she sauntered in wearing the skimpiest of shorts and a prim, white tank top. Daryl wasn't sure what had spurred her to do it. But if he had to guess, he figured she'd spotted the lust in his eyes even from the doorway. She couldn't come prancing into his cell looking like that and expect anything else.

Beth glided over to him, sliding into his lap in a way that could only be described as feline. And neither his eyes nor his mouth had time to ask permission before she was kissing him hard, biting at his lip and rolling her tongue around with his until she could feel his hardness pressing against her with interest.

Daryl wasn't sure how she always managed to do this to him. Just a few minutes in and he was already throbbing against her, a beg balanced on the tip of his tongue. Maybe it was that so little fabric separated them. Through the cotton of his boxers, and through the thin satin of her shorts, he could feel everything. _The heat of her_, Christ he couldn't let himself think about it. She hadn't told him to come yet, and he knew that if he concentrated on it at all he'd lose himself far too soon.

But then Beth began to move against him. Slow and incremental at first, rocking back and forth in his lap. The friction was good, too good, and he couldn't help but moan into her neck as she picked up the pace.

"_Fuck,_" he breathed, "Oh, fuck."

This was already more than Daryl could have asked for, more than he could _handle_ quite likely. And when Beth let out a low moan, he was sure he was dead. It couldn't be real, the high-pitched noises she'd started to make, or the way her face was scrunched up in pleasure. She grinded her pussy against him with abandon, letting out a string of wanton noises and kissing him messily.

She was getting off on this. Getting off on _him_, literally, and none of the fantasies he'd had even came close to this moment. Daryl's hands were on her hips, a barely-there pressure that served more to remind him this was real than to help her along. He panted with every downward movement, entranced by the look of pleasured pain on her face.

A realization hit him all at once. She was wet, for _him_. The dampness was seeping through her panties and shorts, helping her to glide against him with every pass. And Daryl had never felt more like a man than in this moment, with Beth hot and wet and writhing in his lap just from his presence alone. Daryl's hands tightened around her waist and he began to buck up against her, matching Beth's pace. He couldn't help it, really. Not after she breathed out his name so urgently against his ear.

"_Daryl_…"

All at once, it was too much.

"Fuck," he panted, "Fuck, Beth…"

"No," she said firmly. _Not yet_. Daryl wasn't sure he could do what she was asking, but his fingers dug into her hips, and he bit hard at his lower lip, trying to stay sane. Beth delighted in the look of utter desperation on Daryl's face, awe and disbelief stewing along with his lust in the most perfect of ways.

A minute later, Daryl was positive he couldn't do this for her. It didn't matter how sexy she looked, grinding against him. Didn't matter how breathily she insisted he hold himself together. It was _too fucking much_ and he was so goddamn close.

"Daryl…you feel so good. So good for me. That's it, ahh that's it. _God_."

He was about to tell her, about to moan and beg and plead _I'm sorry_ into her perfect neck. Then Beth whispered those words he'd been waiting for, and her body froze above him.

"Come for me."

Daryl had never seen something so beautiful as Beth coming. She was a picture of perfection, jerking in his lap and moaning sinfully. But he didn't have long to relish her blissful expression before he was coming right along with her. His hands went straight to her ass, bouncing her forcefully against him and grunting with the effort. And he'd never touched her there before, but it was just as perfect as the rest of her, perky and firm and warm. And he couldn't be bothered to ask permission when his body was seizing as it was, trembling violently as he groaned into her neck and released spurt after spurt of come into the fabric of his already dampened boxers.

They stayed like that for a long while, holding each other and working to even out their breathing. She grazed her fingertips gently over his shoulders, and he continued to crush her against his chest.

"Was that…" he rasped eventually, and she leaned back to look him the eye. "Was that…the first time?"

Beth's brows scrunched together in confusion, briefly, but then she was laughing airily, slapping him lightly on the chest like she couldn't believe what he'd said. "Daryl, of course not," she chuckled.

But when Daryl's expression sobered to some degree, she instantly added, "It was my first time with an _audience_. And it's definitely never been like _that_ before."

And when he gazed up at her a little bit more hopefully, "I mean, what do you think I do when I'm alone in my cell at night? After spending the night with you in the tower, or being in your bed…You've really never thought about it?"

"Thought about it plenty," Daryl retorted, then blushed when he realized the implication of his words. "Just wasn't sure…I ain't supposda, so…" He trailed off vaguely, hoping she understood what he was trying to say.

_"__Is everything different now"?_ he wanted to ask her. "_Thank you,"_ he yearned to say.

Instead, Beth pushed him until he was lying on his side, then lay with him, brushing her hands through his hair. "That was good. God, that was really good. You're so good, Daryl."

Beth began to move away from him, and Daryl suffered a moment of blind panic. He wanted her to stay, _needed_ it more than anything. He wanted to hold her tightly against him, beg her to stay, force her if need be. But the words wouldn't come to him, the actions too far outside of his body's vocabulary.

"Sleep," she ordered gently, before slipping out the door.

TWDTWDTWDTWD

Beth thanked fate that she and Daryl had chosen adjacent cells (though if she were being honest with herself, it might have been more her own doing than fate's wily ways) Otherwise, she never would have heard it. Daryl was crying in his sleep, whimpering against the bedspread so lowly that she was sure no one else in the prison could hear.

She kept silent as she treaded into his cell, taking a moment to look down at the hunter as he slept. His body tensed, then relaxed in a mismatched pattern, face sometimes contorting into a flinch, or a grimace as if he were in pain. She wanted so badly to wake him, but was wary of his reaction.

Over their winter on the road, she'd seen the way Daryl responded to being roused by surprise. He would jump up snarling, like a rabid dog, ready to take down whatever danger had disturbed him. It was his first instinct, the first thought drifting through his mind as the day began. No matter how well or how often he justified it away in his conscious state, his body functioned on the theory that anyone who touched him meant to do him harm.

Beth didn't want to be the victim of one of Daryl's violent awakenings. But she couldn't watch him suffer like this and do nothing. So as smoothly and slowly as could be, Beth slipped in to replace Daryl's pillow on the bed, letting him rest his head on her lap. She ran her fingers gently through his hair and shushed him in a voice lower than a whisper.

After a few minutes, his shaking abated and breathing slowed. She watched with fascination as he came to, only half-awake by her reasoning but more importantly, far calmer than she would have expected.

"Beth?" he rasped in confusion.

She stroked at his neck as she whispered, "I'm here. Go back to sleep, Daryl. I'm right here. You're alright."

Before he slipped off, he wanted to open his eyes. He wanted to see her face and know fully that she was there, beside him. But the relief of waking up in the prison (a _prison_, of all places) was so overwhelming that the realization alone exhausted him. Even quicker than when he was fully conscious, Daryl followed Beth's instructions, falling back into a dreamless sleep.

TWDTWDTWDTWD

"Daryl, have you seen-?"

And Daryl woke with a start, simultaneously aware that his pillow was _not_ his pillow, and that Rick was standing in the doorway to his cell.

"Oh, Beth!" Rick remarked in surprise, "I was looking for you. I'm heading out to the garden, need you to watch Judith."

"That's fine, Rick, I'll be out in a few minutes," Beth replied, dismissing him with an authority he hadn't heard before from the petite blonde. He slid back out of the cell to wait for her.

There was a suspended moment where Daryl remained draped over Beth's lap, before he rasped, "Didn't need to stay all night."

"I wanted to," Beth promised him. He sat up slowly, eyes lazing around the cell as if he didn't recognize it. Beth carefully examined the bags under his eyes. "Do you remember it?"

He gave a halfhearted shrug, and Beth knew that meant _yes_.

"Words, Daryl," she admonished, and now he had to answer.

"Was dreamin' that my dad…he was…hurtin' me…then…hurtin' you," Daryl struggled to get out.

Beth pressed one hand to his cheek, so that he'd look her in the eye. "He can't hurt you anymore," Beth reminded him. And Daryl wanted to cringe at how juvenile the words sounded, no matter how badly he needed to hear them. _'Course he can't_, Daryl wanted to scoff, _the fucker's dead_. But even though he knew in his mind that his Dad was rotting in the ground somewhere, the nightmares never seemed to go away. Not for long, anyways.

"He can't hurt me, either. He can't take me away from you, Daryl. He's never going to take anything from you again." Daryl stared at her with an uncertain expression, not sure if he should thank her or argue.

"Go back to sleep."

And when Daryl opened his mouth to protest, "Just for a little while. An hour. You _need it._"

Later on that day, Rick would ask Beth what she'd been doing in Daryl's bed so early in the morning. And she would simply shrug, remarking, "He was having a nightmare." As if anyone else would have done the same. But Rick and Beth both knew better; no one but her would have dared rouse a sleeping Daryl, particularly when he was dreaming of something terrible. Rick wouldn't say anything along those lines, though. He'd simply give her an approving nod, and head off to work.

TWDTWDTWDTWD

It took nearly losing Beth for Daryl to kiss her without a thought to the consequences. Weeks of training and Daryl's stamp of approval had granted Beth permission to go out on her first run. Daryl took to the fences while she was gone, trying his best to occupy his body and mind in her absence.

_She's with Maggie and Glenn,_ he told himself, _They'll keep her safe._ Hours later, they rolled back through the gates. Most of the prison gang went down to greet them, and Daryl hung to the back of the crowd, wary of appearing over-eager. But when Beth stepped out of the car, she was covered in blood.

Hershel had his hands on her first, checking her over thoroughly and ignoring her as she ceaselessly assured him, "I'm fine. I'm fine, Daddy."

But she didn't' look fine at all. There were blood and guts staining her clothing, seeping into her skin and even tinting her hair a sick shade of red. Daryl found himself fighting not to run towards her, whisk her into his arms and get her someplace safe and away, where he could check her over properly.

He'd never wanted Beth to touch him more than in that moment, but not for the sexual gratification. No, he just wanted to feel her skin against his, know that she was _here_ and _safe_ and _alive._ And he must not have been hiding his distress too well, as Rick clapped a hand to his shoulder from beside him, squeezing meaningfully and giving Daryl a sympathetic look.

"Daddy, calm down. I'm _fine._"

"She hit her head on a fall," Glenn interrupted. "Had a close call with four walkers. But you should have seen her, Hershel. They backed her into a corner and she just took them out, like it was nothing. She was amazing."

"That training is really paying off," Maggie agreed, glancing in Daryl's direction.

Finally, _finally_, Beth spotted Daryl from across the group. And if she hadn't known better, she would have thought that he was about to cry. He was shifting his weight back and forth on his feet, chewing restlessly at his thumb and looking about as lost as she'd ever seen him. Daryl was completely distraught, wrecked, and needing her in a way that he couldn't put into words. But Beth caught on instantly, giving him a small smile before turning back to Hershel.

"Daddy, I really am fine. I didn't lose consciousness when I fell, and I don't think I even have a concussion. It was just a bump on the head. And if you really want to, you can look at it later. But right now, what I really need is to shower and get all this blood off of me."

"Bethie, you hit your head. I really don't think—"

"Daryl's going to come with me and stand guard. He'll make sure I don't collapse," Beth interrupted, then immediately strode past them all and straight towards the prison. She smiled to herself at the shocked expressions on many of the faces she passed. None of them would ever have the audacity to speak about Daryl like she just had, giving him an _order_, of sorts.

Anyone surprised by her response, though, turned utterly astounded when Daryl immediately turned to follow her, hurrying after her without a moment of indecision and looking downright happy to do so.

Daryl knew what kind of looks he was receiving as he followed Beth to the showers. Some were shocked, some confused, and some disapproving. He didn't want to take time to register which was which, not when Beth was leading him through the maze, covered in blood but calm as ever.

Once safely at the showers, Daryl shoved his rifle into the handles of the double-doors, assuring no one else could get inside.

After that, he wasted no time at all in shoving Beth up against the closest wall and smashing his lips into hers.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Well here it is, you guys. Please review! **_

**Chapter Six**

Daryl was pawing at Beth's body, fingers scraping at skin rather than caressing it, anything to elicit a response from the woman pinned between him and the wall. He kissed her thoroughly, violently, before moving his lips to her jaw and then her neck. He fluctuated between sucking hard and mumbling against her skin.

After a few minutes of bliss, Beth began to concentrate on his words. They were muddled and soft, but eventually she understood. "Can't do that. Can't do that Beth. Can't do that."

A moment more and Beth realized just how hard Daryl was shaking. She knew what she had to do.

"Kneel," Beth whispered breathily, but was overshadowed by his incessant murmuring.

"Daryl, kneel," Beth demanded, and the archer suddenly became complacent in her arms. He dropped to his knees in front of her, pushing his forehead into her stomach and alternating between whispers of _can't do that_ and _please_.

"Shh," Beth hummed, stroking her fingers through Daryl's hair with both hands. "It's okay. I'm okay, I'm right here." She allowed him a few minutes more of blind panic, pressing himself into her body as if he wished to climb inside. He needed that, Beth thought. He needed the time to play out his worry and fear, let it run its course.

But when Daryl's trembling hadn't abated in good time, Beth softly said, "Look at me."

No response. So Beth gently pulled Daryl's chin up in hopes that he would look her in the eye. "Look at me, Daryl. You need to calm down. I'm right here with you, everything's fine. I need you to talk to me. Tell me what's happening right now."

She felt more than heard him gasp in a cascade of labored breaths, before he let out, "The blood." Finally, Daryl looked at her, his face more open and lost than she'd ever seen him. "Too much blood."

"It wasn't _my_ blood," Beth reminded him.

"Don't matter. All day...couldn't breathe...waiting. Then you come back lookin' like that...can't do that to me, Beth. I can't..."

She could hear the way he was working himself into a frenzy again, and quickly stepped in to curtail it. "Shh, Daryl, I know. I know I scared you, and I'm sorry. But nothing happened. I'm safe, and I'm here with you. I just need you to tell me what to do for you. Tell me what you need."

He gazed up at her beseechingly, unable to form the words.

Beth might have chastised him for failing to speak when spoken to, but the situation seemed dire enough to merit a pass.

"Do you need me to tie you?" Beth questioned softly.

It took a moment for Daryl to muster up the ability to respond, but eventually he rasped out a solid, "Yeah."

"Then stand up for me."

And he did, standing expectantly in front of her and biting hard at his lower lip.

"Go stand under the shower head, with your back to the wall."

The faucet stood just above his head, and with his weapons already removed and in a pile on the floor, Daryl leaned against the tiles, desperate for instruction.

"I'm going to take your clothes off, okay? All of them."

Daryl's eyes widened in blatant fear, but he didn't protest straightaway. More than anything he looked confused. This wasn't what they did. He'd drawn a hard line, and she'd promised to respect it. But now here Beth was, threatening to remove his most important layer of protection.

"But..."

"I won't touch your back," Beth immediately explained, "Won't even look, if you don't want me to. You can keep your back to the wall. But I don't want anything between us Daryl, not now. Can you do that for me?"

Daryl bit nervously at his thumbnail, watching her closely. "Alright."

_I trust Beth_, Daryl kept telling himself, _Don't flinch._

Beth began to slowly undress him. She unlaced his boots and pulled them from his feet. She unbuckled his belt and peeled his jeans off of his toned legs. She smirked at the realization that he was going commando, as he often did.

Beth saved his shirt for last. She'd touched his chest before, so this at least wasn't new territory. But still, Beth took her time in undoing the buttons of his flannel, watching his face carefully with every movement and pressing her lips to his sternum when she finished. She could feel Daryl's rapid heartbeat vibrating through her lips. She used his discarded shirt to tie his hands behind his back.

"Stay," she whispered to him, before stepping back to lazily strip down. Only half-hard from concealed fear, Daryl's cock twitched in interest when she pulled her shirt up and over her head, exposing her bare chest to him. He bit nervously at his lower lip as she pulled down her shorts and panties in one go. They'd never been naked together before. Daryl couldn't remember how to breathe.

She walked over to him and ran one hand up his chest, coasting over hard abs and a light smattering of hair. "You're doing so well, Daryl. I'm so proud of you."

She leaned her head up to lightly tongue at one nipple, then the other, pulling a surprised gasp from the archer. "Not so bad, is it?"

He shook his head mutely, unable to muster up a more eloquent response.

Beth smiled warmly at him. "Now you hold tight while I clean myself up, okay?"

A disappointed whine was startled from the back of Daryl's throat, and Beth chuckled a bit. She stepped over to the showerhead next to his and pumped up the hot water, letting it cascade down over her body as he watched helplessly. She could see the pulsing of Daryl's cock, how badly he was aching to be touched.

Beth took her time, though, being sure to soap and cleanse every inch of her body and every strand of her hair. Finally, she shot him her most sultry of smiles before slowly grazing her fingertips down over her stomach and past her mound to the apex of her thighs. He groaned low when she first touched herself for him, still leaning back against the wall and watching her fixedly. His cock jumped without a touch to it, and precum beaded at the head in anticipation.

"Do you like to watch, Daryl?" Beth murmured, letting out a breathy moan as her fingers disappeared inside of herself.

"Beth…"

"You don't get to touch, not yet," Beth reminded him, still touching herself, "But how about a taste? Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

She removed two slick fingers from herself and raised them to Daryl's lips. Without a moment of hesitation, Daryl sucked them down eagerly, lapping at her juices and looking damn grateful for it.

"Did you like that?" she asked him once she'd pulled her fingers away.

"Yeah." She quirked an eyebrow at him, expecting him to elaborate. "Want you, Beth. Need you. Need this. Please?"

Beth smiled warmly at him, then leaned up on her toes to kiss him soundly, tongues wrestling for control as she proclaimed her ownership of him.

"You've been so good today, Daryl. I know how hard it must have been for you to wait here while I was out there, and to see me come back looking like that. I know. And I think you deserve a little reward, hm?"

He might have asked her what kind of reward she had in mind, but it became all too clear when Beth dropped to her knees in front of him. She took him in her hand and stroked firmly, looking up to meet his eyes. "I want to hear you, alright? No holding back."

"But—" _Everyone's awake. There are people around for fuck's sake._

"None of that," Beth cut him off, "It's obvious enough after today, anyways. I want to hear you. Or I might just stop in the middle." She winked at him, assuring that she was kidding. She wouldn't do that to him again.

At his slight nod, Beth took him in her mouth, and Daryl whimpered audibly. Beth's mouth was warm and wet, her tongue silky and strong as it massaged the underside of his dick, while she bobbed slowly up and down. Christ, he couldn't think of a time he'd ever gotten head sober.

"Fuck," he whispered, when she cradled his balls with one hand, "Fuck, Beth…"

She moaned around his length in response, and Daryl cried out. His body bowed forward around the source of his pleasure and he shook against the wall, struggling to breathe regularly.

"Ain't gonna last," he managed to grind out, and Beth wasn't the least bit surprised. She could already feel the heavier presence of his cock as it became even harder, and the saltiness on the back of her tongue. She took him deeper, relishing the surprised moan when he felt her throat muscles flutter around his length.

"_Fuck, _Beth. How do you…oh, fuck…"

She wrapped her spare hand around his cock, following her mouth as she bobbed faster. He was moaning too loud, that much he knew. The friction had him bucking into her, hips stuttering as he chased his release.

"Ahh, please. Fuck, Beth. Make me come. Need it. Need you, baby. Please," Daryl moaned. And he'd never called her 'baby' before, but when Beth only sped up her assault, he figured she must not have minded. It just spilled out, along with the rest of his words, unintentionally.

Beth's fingers began to stroke over the stretch of skin between ass and balls, all the while rolling the orbs in her hand, tugging gently for every desperate throb of his cock. Fuck, it hadn't even _occurred_ to him to touch himself there before, but now she was massaging the spot none too gently, and _Christ_ it was good.

"Faster…faster…so close…" he begged, and Beth easily obliged him. She felt his body tense up, then abruptly Daryl was coming hard down her throat, moaning her name loud enough that it echoed off the shower walls. His legs gave way, and he slid down until he was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall and staring up at her with a dazed expression.

"_Jesus Christ_, Beth, _fuck_," he panted as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and smiled triumphantly.

"Feeling better?" Beth taunted had hardly a mind to feel offense. Instead he nodded slowly, watching her with pupils blown wide. "I figured that would take the edge off a little. But I was thinking…do you still want to taste, Daryl?" He used his bounds to push himself up so he was sitting straight up. _Did he want to…fuck, of course he did._ Already, his cock twitched in interest at her words.

"Yeah, hell yeah," he said immediately, and Beth smiled.

"I'm going to untie your hands. Then, I want you to lie on your back. Alright?"

He nodded eagerly, and lay back as soon as his hands were free, watching her watch him.

"Have you done this before?" she asked softly, already knowing the answer.

"Not…really," Daryl eventually replied, looking anywhere but her face.

She stroked a hand over his face, "That's just fine. I'll tell you what to do."

And Daryl seemed to accept this answer, as he immediately requested, "C'mere."

Beth straddled his face, and Daryl was brought back to every porno Merle had ever insisted he watch. He tried to remember what the men in those videos did to make their women moan so brazenly. But if he was being honest, the girls' moans had always seemed as fake as their tits. Nothing like Beth; everything about her was real.

"Use the flat of your tongue to lick right here," she instructed, pointing out her clit. "Start off slow. Not too soft."

Daryl was nothing if not attentive. He began to move his tongue against her, and his hands went to her hips, holding her steady. He paid close attention to every moan and every gasp, and it wasn't long at all before Daryl didn't need any instruction at all. He tongued circles around her clit, lapped back and forth, and even thrust inside of her, just to see how she'd react.

And Daryl wasn't disappointed. Beth was a vision above him, writhing and groaning his name, grinding into his face and letting out noises he'd never heard her make before. He was hard and twitching from the sight and sound of her, surprising himself with just how aroused he was. His cock throbbed noticeably each time she moaned his name, and though he'd never been one for back to back performances, it seemed as if that rule was about to be broken.

Beth's legs trembled and shook, and Daryl watched as she reached up to gently tweak her own nipples. Daryl thought he'd never seen something quite so sexy before. He could feel the way her sex twitched under his tongue, signaling that she was close. And all at once, Beth came on his face, moaning and bouncing and releasing a burst of sweet warmth against him.

His cock pulsed with want, and Beth moved to dismount him. But Daryl had other plans. With his hands free, he grasped her firmly by the waist, forcing her to remain in place as he flicked his tongue back and forth over her clit and ignored the way she cried out and squirmed. Her noises only spurred him on, desperate to have all her pleasure.

"Daryl, please, I—oh, God!" she cried, and all to soon she was coming again, bucking and mewing her delight. And that was all it took for the archer beneath her. Without her permission, and without a thought to the consequences, Daryl reached one hand down to his throbbing length and pumped over himself once, twice, then came all over his chest and hand. He moaned into Beth's pussy, and Beth shivered above him at the sensation.

Finally, she collapsed next to him, both of them staring up at the ceiling and panting hard.

Suddenly, Beth began to giggle, then to laugh outright, fitful and loud.

Daryl turned his head to look at her, "The fuck?"

"Sorry," she gasped as she tried to stifle her laughter, "That was just so _good_. Haven't done it before my ass."

He blushed lightly, before asserting, "Wasn't lyin'."

Beth grinned at him, "Well then, you're an exceptionally fast learner. I can't believe I just came twice. Actually, scratch that. I can't believe _you _came twice."

Daryl chuckled at that, "You and me both." He sat up slowly, being sure to keep his back towards the wall. "Well, we sure weren't quiet."

"No we weren't. Not that it'd be a huge surprise after how we were in the courtyard. Are you ready for what comes next?"

He sighed, "Your dad's gonna be pissed."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that, Daryl. He respects you."

"Your sister, then."

Beth nodded thoughtfully, "Maybe," she conceded, "But that's just her being a big sister. She'll get used to it."

Daryl pulled Beth across his lap and looked her in the eye, "I know y'ain't gonna be willin' to stick 'round the prison forever. Know you wanna go out on runs. But from now on…just lemme go with you? Can't take it the other way."

"Okay," Beth agreed. "From now on we'll always go together. I have to say though, the surprised look on Maggie's and Glenn's faces when I took out those walkers was awesome. I kicked ass."

"Shit, now you're cussin' too? I'm a bad influence on ya."

They gathered their things, dressed quickly, and left the showers. They made it back to the cellblock, only to be immediately headed off by a grim-looking Carol.

"Are the showers finally free? People have been waiting," she groused.

Daryl stared at her blankly for a moment, then his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Yeah, they're free." _Why's she seem so pissed?_

Carol looked between Daryl and Beth, seemingly expecting him to say something more. When he continued to eye her hesitantly, she ground out "About time!" and stormed past them.

Rick was the next obstacle in their path, but seemed markedly less upset. "You feeling better, Beth?"

"Of course. Just needed to get the blood off, really. Hardly even bumped my head. Just Maggie being overprotective, as usual."

Daryl frowned a little at that, suddenly remember that Beth had been _injured_ before they'd entered the showers together.

"That's good to hear," Rick said. "It's nice to know that you can handle yourself out there."

"Just thank Daryl," Beth immediately said with a smile, and the archer blushed when Rick eyed him appreciatively.

Daryl quickly shrugged off the compliment and shouldered his bow. "M'gonna take the evening shift on watch," he said to Rick.

Their leader eyed him skeptically for a moment, then said, "I think Sasha is up there now, but you can relieve her."

He stood there hesitantly for a moment, wanting to touch Beth one last time but unsure of what Rick's reaction would be. Beth took the choice away from him. She leaned up on her tip-toes and kissed him square on the lips, before murmuring, "You running?"

_Running from what? Your daddy and his shotgun? Your crazy-ass sister? Everyone's judgmental stares?_

He looked from Beth, to Rick, and back again. "Hell yeah," he finally quipped, and Rick gave him an approving smile.

Rick snorted, "Good luck with that, man." He turned to seek out Judith and Carl.

Beth gave him another peck on the cheek. "I'll bring up dinner later. Try not to brood to much."

Daryl flushed. "Hey! I don't…_brood_."

Beth cocked a dismissive eyebrow at him.

"Shut up," he huffed, but couldn't hide his smile.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Aw yeah, getting to the good stuff! Reviews are not just welcome, I CRAVE them, so please let me know what y'all are thinking! **_

**Chapter Seven**

It had been days since he'd seen her properly, had his eyes on her for any longer than a passing glance. Hershel and Maggie were being crafty about it, occupying all of Beth's time with tasks she couldn't turn down. Story time for the kids, helping Carol with dinner, rocking Judith to sleep.

He'd never heard Beth refuse one of their requests before, and Daryl knew that that was a good piece of why Beth was _Beth_, always putting the group before herself. But at this point he was desperate. They were doing it on purpose. Pushing him to his limits. But no one seemed to understand that when he snapped, there would be innocent bystanders hurt in the crossfire.

They all hated him now. He touched Beth, spoilt her. It was hard enough when it had been just the two of them, hard enough for him to know that he'd never be good enough for her. But now _everyone_ knew. And each time they sought Beth out in the evenings, keeping her busy and away from him, it served as a bitter reminder. _She deserved better_.

It had been four days since their time in the showers, and Daryl had hardly breathed since. Every passing moment pushed him closer to the brink. He was on edge, testier with every passing day and avoiding contact with anyone but the walkers. He hadn't so much as eaten a meal with the group since he'd spotted that first judgmental glare. He couldn't stand to sit so close to her, but never get what he needed.

Above all else, Daryl wished for those evenings back. Not the ones up in the guard tower, though he craved them now more than ever, but the quiet conversations in his cell. Those small touches, soft-spoken words, they'd meant everything to him. They kept him whole. And now they'd been taken away. And Daryl had known this day was coming; he'd known it all along. But that didn't ease the hurt, and didn't dull the way his heart dropped each time he spotted golden hair from afar, only to have her whisked away again.

If it kept going on like this, he'd have to leave them.

TWDTWDTWDTWD

Daryl only attended dinner on the fifth night because Rick absolutely insisted. And considering their leader was the only one who hadn't looked at him any differently since finding out, he eventually relented.

But of course, that didn't mean he wasn't going to sit as far away from everyone as possible. He situated himself in the corner, hunched over his bowl and trying his best to block out the conversation of the rest of the group. He couldn't remember a time being near them had been this hard. He'd been an outsider back at the quarry, but it was worse now. Maybe because he'd experienced what it was like to be accepted, only to have that stripped away too.

Daryl's senses were all off. He'd hardly slept. He'd spent hours upon hours at the fences over the last few days, to the point where there was hardly a straggling walker to be brought down, and still he was restless. No matter how far he placed himself from the rest of them, he felt cornered.

Which probably explained why when two hands came down upon his shoulders from behind, he lashed out like a rabid dog. Daryl had spun around and shoved the offending body violently into the wall behind them before he even registered that it was Carol he was attacking.

_No, no...why...what did you do?_

The shock and pain in her eyes was enough to send him bolting from the room, storming past all the accusing eyes and heading straight for the yard. _Air, just need air._

It was hard to hear the footsteps from behind him over the blood pounding in his ears.

_Why did you do that? What the fuck did you do? There's something wrong with you._

The clang of the gates closing behind him didn't register before he was pacing back and forth across the pavement, arms crossed over his chest and trying desperately to hold himself together. But he was failing. He had the briefest thought that something _really _must be wrong when Beth managed to surprise him as she moved to intercept his frenzied body.

"Don't! Just stay away from me," he tried to growl, but it came out as more of a plea, and Beth wasn't going to give up that easily.

"Come sit down with me, Daryl," Beth said. That soft voice, the one that told him what he should be doing and made everything easier. But he wasn't sure he could be controlled, even if he wanted it. His pulse was pounding away and he couldn't make his body slow down or quit thrumming. It felt like the ground was shaking underneath him and it was taking everything he had to remain upright.

"You saw what I- I-," he sputtered out in short, panting breaths. But then Beth wrapped her arms around him and held him still and Christ, Daryl finally could breathe again.

"M'sorry," he rasped brokenly.

"Shh," Beth murmured, walking him back until his calves met the warm wood of one of the picnic tables. "Sit."

He did so without question, staring up at her with a lost expression and feeling unreasonably grateful to have her hands on him again, finally.

"It's okay," she told him, and Daryl's head fell forward into her stomach. "It's okay."

She could feel him shaking her head against her, disbelieving. And from just inside the doors to the prison, Hershel and Rick watched as Beth soothed the archer's shuddering form. She ran her hands through his hair, whispered things they couldn't hear from the distance. But whatever she was telling him seemed to be working.

They stood like that for a long while, until Daryl was no longer shaking, or clawing at Beth's shirt. Eventually, Beth leaned back. And though neither Rick nor Hershel could see the sparkly sheen of wetness against Daryl's cheeks, they knew when Beth went to gently rub them dry that the archer must have been crying.

"Never seen him get that bad," Rick murmured.

"Sure you have," Hershel countered, "It's just Daryl's way. But more importantly, I'm sure I've never seen him calm down that quickly."

"Suppose you're right," Rick agreed, "Usually after something like that, it'd be days in the woods on some hunt before he could stand to be around us again."

"He's been better, the last couple months. Coming into his own, I think."

They were silent a moment, watching Beth smoothly slip in behind Daryl. She straddled her legs around his body and sat on the table behind him. As they watched, she slowly massaged his shoulders, all the while speaking softly to him, and letting him reply in his own time.

"You know why that is, right? Why he's been better?"

"Rick, I know my daughter better than anyone. You think I didn't take notice when that man fell in love with her?"

Rick barked out a laugh. "Shoulda known you'd see it before anyone else. How do you know he loves her?"

Hershel gave a wistful smile. "Just look at him. And she's in just as deep, I'll tell you that. But I wouldn't go bringing it up anytime soon. I doubt he's realized it yet."

Rick nodded thoughtfully, "Never seen him do that before, let someone touch his back. He won't even stand with his back to most people." Even from far off, they could see the way that Daryl pushed his body into Beth's, and allowed her to tease all the tension from his overworked form. "She's good for him," Rick surmised.

"I'd have to agree. Might have told the both of them that, if either had bothered to come to me with this."

Rick bit back a smile. "Well, you _can _be somewhat intimidating."

Slower than molasses, Daryl found himself relaxing under Beth's knowing hands. She was whispering nonsense mostly, telling him he was good, promising him that everything would be okay and that she was here, _right here_, and he had nothing to worry about.

"They all hate me," Daryl mumbled after awhile.

Beth paused for a moment, waiting to see if he'd continue. But when he didn't she said, "You know that's not true."

"It is. They look at me like...like I'm takin' ya against your will or somethin'. Your dad and Maggie won't let me near ya...can't take it, Beth..."

"Shh, Daryl no one thinks that of you. You're family; no one would ever think that. As for my dad and Maggie...it's not so much that they're keeping you away, it's that you refuse to face either of them."

"But they, they keep givin' ya stuff to do. Any time I come near you..."

"They're not keeping me under lock and key. C'mon, do you really think that if you went up to either of them and asked if you could borrow me, they'd say no? All you have to do is ask, Daryl."

"S'too hard...you not bein' around...can't stay here..." Daryl mumbled mostly to himself.

Beth nearly smiled at how much she expected those words to come out of his mouth. _Can't stay._ But the thing was, Daryl was still very much present, despite his growing distress. That instinct of his to run at the first sign of imminent pain was being expunged minutely with every passing day.

"I'd go with you, you know, if you ever really had to leave," Beth told him. Daryl sighed a little and relaxed as her words met his ears, and Beth smiled when she realized that _that_ worried him too. "But the thing is, you're not going to leave. You love everyone here. And they love you back, Daryl. They may not understand you and me, but they'll accept it. Most of them already have."

"No, not after today. Not after what I did to..." Daryl huffed out a sigh, and picked at his nails restlessly. "Always knew it was in me. Bad blood. And I could see the way some of the rest of 'em saw me. Like I was the same as Merle, or my dad."

"No one sees you that way—"

"They do. And they're right. Christ, I'm...m'worse than my dad. At least he knew he was a bastard; I spend all of my time tryin' to push that shit down, tryin' to be better. But it ain't no use; it's...it's already in me. They're right to keep you away from me. Probably figure one day I'll snap and beat the shit outta ya for no reason—"

"I think no such thing," Hershel suddenly interrupted, stepping out from behind them. Daryl couldn't help but curse himself again for lacking the awareness to hear the man's approach. "Beth, could you give us a few minutes alone?"

Daryl tensed up, but Beth squeezed his shoulders reassuringly and murmured in his ear, "I'll see you inside."

Once his daughter was safely out of earshot, Hershel turned to the wary-looking archer. "You're a good man, Daryl. You've kept this group alive, kept my Bethie alive, more so than any of us."

He sat down on the bench beside him. "Now, I know I'm old, but you can't honestly believe I didn't notice what was going on with you and Beth. Fortunately, you were a good influence on each other. She's become so much stronger over the last couple of months. And you...well I've never seen you so happy, or calm. I'm not sure even you realize how much a difference she's made."

"Trust me, I know," Daryl mumbled.

"What I'm saying is, I trust you as a man, no matter where you come from. And I trust you with my daughter."

Daryl stared blankly at him for a moment, then let out a ragged sigh, "Shit man, you couldn't have said something sooner?"

Hershel gave him a disproving look. "I thought it was more appropriate to wait for you to come forward. If you were insecure enough about the relationship to keep it a secret…"

"Nah man it wasn't that. I just…always took her lead on it, I suppose," Daryl tried to explain.

"And you're being safe?"

"Huh?" Daryl spouted dumbly, brow furrowed in confusion.

"Safe, Daryl. With my daughter?"

The moment or realization for the archer was sudden and bright. He visibly flinched, and his face turned all shades of red and pink.

"Shit, Hershel, we ain't never- we don't-" he sputtered.

Hershel let loose a surprised chuckle, "Well that's good to hear. But I imagine it will come up eventually. Just make sure you're careful."

"I ain't gonna- I'd never-"

"It's _fine_ Daryl. Now why don't you go inside and report to my daughter, hm?"

"I...uh...yeah. S'good idea," Daryl mumbled to the ground before hopping up off the bench and charging straight for the prison doors.

Daryl heard her voice from the other end of the block, and grimaced to himself when he realized Beth was not in her cell. Sucking in a steadying breath, Daryl stalked up to the cell Maggie and Glenn shared and cleared his throat.

When Maggie spotted him, her eyes narrowed. "Dixon," she said evenly.

"Hey," he rasped almost inaudibly. But then Beth gave him an encouraging smile, and he heard Merle grown at him to _man the fuck up_ from the back of his mind. "Hey, um, I know you probably hate me, for bein' with your baby sister…but I fuckin' need her Maggie. I just do. So you think you can, maybe, give her the night off?"

And when Daryl met her eye with an expression more sincere and pleading than she'd ever seen grace his features, Maggie's cool façade began to crack. "I guess…if that's what Beth wants…"

"I do!" Beth chimed in.

Daryl huffed out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding, and grinned just slightly when Beth bounced up off the bed to meet him by the door.

"Dixon," Maggie called as they turned to leave. Daryl held his breath. "You hurt my sister, and I'll cut off your nuts in your sleep."

Daryl nodded seriously, "That's fair."

Daryl had his hands on Beth as soon as the curtain was drawn. Not kissing, or fighting to get her undressed, but simply pulling her body into his and cradling her in his lap. He buried his head in her hair and inhaled her flowery scent, letting out a satisfied sigh.

It might have been the sweetest of moments, had Beth not felt the resounding hardness pushing into her thigh. Beth shifted a little in his lap, letting him know that _she _knew, and Daryl groaned lowly then mumbled "sorry" into her skin.

"Why are you sorry?" Beth whispered as she ghosted her fingers over his neck.

"I…you didn't say it was…that we were gonna…" he struggled to get out, body reacting naturally to the tortuous stimulation of her fingers grazing his heated skin.

"You're allowed to ask for things, Daryl," Beth reminded him.

"S'hard," he murmured back, "Not used to gettin' the stuff I ask for."

"Trust me, I can feel how hard it is," Beth whispered, grinding down into him again. "You need it bad, don't you Daryl?"

She used the palm of her hand to massage his bulge gently and he groaned from deep in his chest. "S'been days," he gasped.

"And you haven't touched yourself once? That's a long time to wait," Beth hummed.

"M'not…not allowed," Daryl panted, grinding himself upwards against Beth's hand.

"No, you're not," Beth agreed. "You were so good for me. Always so good. Think I ought to reward you for that, hm?"

"Yeah, yeah…"

"You showered before dinner, right?"

"Uh, yeah…why…?"

"Shh, Daryl. Take off your clothes for me now, okay?" Daryl slipped out of his jeans and boots as hurriedly as he could manage, never one to deny a request from the youngest Greene girl. He bit at his lip nervously as Beth pulled out a scarf from underneath her bed.

"I want to try something a little different tonight," Beth explained, "Can you get on all four's for me?"

Beth had almost forgotten how young Daryl looked when he was frightened.

"You can say no," she immediately amended, "I'll never ask you to do something you don't want to do. And if we start, but you don't like, you can tell me to stop and I will right away."

"But what…why…?"

"You'll get on all four's for me. And I'll use the scarf to cover your eyes, so that the only thing you have to focus on is what you feel. I won't tie your hands. And then I'll make you feel good, Daryl. I'll make you feel so good," she explained in her most sultry of tones, kneading at his hard cock with the base of her palm and watching the conflict dance across his eyes.

Daryl allowed his body to buck towards Beth's touch once more. "Promise you'll stop? If I…if I can't handle it?"

"I promise."

"Alright." Tentatively, Daryl turned to prop himself up on all fours, face burning red at how exposed he felt. But Beth always seemed to know what to do. She leaned over him, draping her body on top of his, and slowly kissed her way down up back. He hardly noticed when the scarf was wrapped over his eyes. All he could feel were her feather-light touches over the smooth fabric of his shirt.

He was shivering with every touch, far more nervous than normal. So when Beth reached out to grasp his firm length in her fist, and began to slowly stroke over frazzled nerves, Daryl reacted much more intensely than either of them expected. Daryl forced his cock into the tightness and sobbed out a startled moan, shaking with the effort it took not to rut against her like an animal.

"Shh," Beth soothed, one hand stroking his cock and the other his hip, reassuring him with her careful, predictable movements, "You're doing so well, Daryl."

He felt the bed dip as Beth leaned her body down even with his. White hot wetness engulfed his left nut, and Daryl groaned lowly, unconsciously pushing himself back towards Beth's writhing tongue. She paid special attention to his genetic safe havens, flicking her tongue over the taut skin, and rolling them in her mouth.

She suckled gently and Daryl's arms shook. "_Beth._"

And then her tongue descended further north. Daryl tensed up once more, only to be slowly unwound by Beth's incessantly stroking hands. The first thing that registered when Daryl felt Beth's tongue stroke over his small, reddened pucker was surprise. _That's_ what she wanted? _Why? _

But any lingering confusion was blotted out when the tongue swirled and pleasure shot through his body like lightening. "Oh, fuck…"

His whole body was on fire, cock twitching and throbbing in Beth's hand with every lap of her knowing tongue. His legs were shaking hard and he wasn't sure whether he needed her to stop or needed more.

Sensing his hesitance, Beth pulled back an inch and murmured into his skin, "Do you want me to stop, Daryl?"

_Christ, I don't know_. "I…I…" his stuttered response became a reluctant whine when Beth's tongue licked over him in another long stripe. Her hand abandoned its mission of fisting his cock, instead moving to cradle his tightening nuts, rolling them in her palm.

On the off chance that she could influence his decision, Beth curled her tongue and thrust forcefully, over and over until she felt the muscle relent. Daryl keened loudly into the bedspread, and fell to his elbows.

"Don't stop, fuck, don't stop," he groaned.

Beth hummed her understanding against him, and Daryl cried out, cock twitching untouched and leaking pre-cum onto the sheets. "Please, please baby," he tried, rocking back against her without the least bit of hesitance now.

_Oh God, I'm gonna come. I'm gonna come from this._

"M'gonna…please, baby…please make me..."

Catching him entirely off balance, Beth removed her hands from him and pulled his arms out from under him, forcing him quite suddenly onto his back. She straddled his legs and pulled down the makeshift blindfold, grinning at his startled, lust-drunk expression.

"Call me baby again," she demanded.

"Beth, please," he whimpered, still touch-starved and confused by the sudden change.

Beth reached down to palm the silky head, and Daryl threw his head back with a moan.

"Do it, Daryl. Call me baby," Beth murmured. She twisted her hand over the head relentlessly, making him writhe and thrash underneath her.

"Please, please baby, fuck," he panted, face contorted in a look Beth might have thought was pain if she didn't already know it was blinding pleasure.

"You want to come?"

"_Please_, baby…"

"Tell me."

"Make me come. Please baby, please make me come," he begged. Beth curled her hand around his length and stroked him hard and fast. Daryl moaned his approval, thrust into her hand, and in no more than a half-dozen strokes, he was done for. The archer bit hard at his lip to stifle the rumbling groan as Beth effortlessly pulled stream after stream of creamy spunk from his cock.

For Daryl, everything went black and silent. But when he finally blinked open his eyes, he was half-dressed again, clean, and Beth was lying by his side, running her fingers tenderly through his hair. As soon as he recognized that it was _Beth_ beside him, he pulled her into his chest, hiding his head in her hair and squeezing his eyes shut.

"That was so good, Daryl. You're so good," she praised him softly, until finally, he leaned back to look her in the eye.

His fingers splayed over her lower abdomen. "But you didn't…"

"I don't need to. Not every time," Beth explained gently, "Sometimes I just want to take care of you. I _like_ doing it."

"I still don't get why," he mumbled.

"I like it for the same reason you like when I take care of you. The same, but different I suppose. After I lost so much, so fast, I just wanted some control back. Being with you, like this, it gives me that. It feels right. Being with you always feels right."

"S'not the same," Daryl mumbles completely unintelligibly. And when Beth murmurs a _hmm?_ in response, he manages to get out at normal volume. "It's not the same. 'Cuz I'd want ya even if…even if ya didn't…take care of me…like ya do."

Beth had to fight back the tears when she saw the forlorn expression on Daryl's face. But instead, she shot him a heartbreakingly tender smile, and told him, "Daryl, I want you no matter what. If tomorrow you decided you wanted to get rid of all the extra and just be…together, then I'd do that. Without question. As long as we're happy, we can forget the rest."

"But, you need it…"

"I need _you_," Beth corrected, and Daryl's eyebrows shot up comically high.

"You do?"

_How can you not know this by now, you silly man?_

"Of course I do," she promised him.

Daryl sighed contentedly and let his eyes fall shut. "I need you too."

"I know," she whispered with a smile.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

For the first time he could remember, Daryl woke up slow as molasses. He couldn't really remember falling asleep, let alone falling asleep with Beth next to him. But that must have been the case, because he was feeling far too good to have slept alone. Better than good. And warm. _Warm… so wet…oh, God…_

Daryl reached down one hand to twine with the silky hair cascading over his thigh.

"Fuck, Beth," he sighed, and there was a faint wet sound as Beth's mouth left his cock. She climbed up his body and placed a sloppy kiss on his cheek.

"Good morning," she whispered, before returning to her task with even greater enthusiasm. She sucked the head into her mouth, swirled the tongue over sensitive glands. And Daryl threw his head to the side, groaning into his pillow to try to stifle the noise.

Not entirely awake yet, Daryl's head swam with every movement of Beth's talented tongue. She took him deeper yet, bobbing at a slow pace that had Daryl's hips bucking up for more. One hand gently rolled his nuts in her small hand, while the other reached up to tweak a nipple, pinching it and flicking it in time with the strokes of her mouth. And all at once Daryl's orgasm crashed over him.

"Baby, baby, I'm—" Daryl tried warn her as he felt his balls draw up in her hand. But Beth knew his body as well as her own, and never once broke pace as he shot down her throat, fingers tightening in her hair as he panted out his pleasure.

He faintly recognized the sensation of Beth swallowing him down, and tucking him back into his boxers before her mouth was encompassing his in a filthy kiss.

"Jesus," he wheezed when they broke for air. "What'd I do to deserve _that_?"

Beth giggled breathily, "Well you did finally talk to my Dad and Maggie last night. Not the easiest of feats. I thought you deserved a bit of a reward. Are you complaining?"

"Hell no," Daryl said with a smile. "Hey, I was thinkin' of goin' on a run today."

"Yeah? Do we need something?"

"No. Well, yeah, but not need so much as…it's for Judith, I mean."

"Okay…"

"I wanna get her a crib. A proper one. That plastic bin's fine and all but she deserves somethin' nice."

Beth propped herself up on one elbow and looked him in the eye. "Daryl Dixon, you are such a softie."

"Stop," he scoffed, embarrassed.

"Never," she teased. "But I'm guessing this means you'd like me to go with you?"

"Yeah, I mean, if y'ain't busy, and Rick's got Judy for the day… I'll need help carryin' stuff out to the truck, anyways."

Beth hiccupped a laugh, "You could just tell me you want me with you. It's not like it's a secret that you like me."

"Shut up," he mumbled as he rolled out of bed and began to prepare for the day.

TWDTWDTWDTWD

On their first sweep of the store, they simply picked out whatever caught their eye. Diapers, formula, a handful of toys.

Beth stood in front of a display of mobiles, her eyes trained on one in particular that glimmered even in the low light of the abandoned building. She felt Daryl's presence behind her.

"I had one just like this, when I was a kid," she explained, "My Mama always told me I loved shiny things. Ever since I was a baby."

"S'nice," Daryl commented.

Beth turned to look at him, "Did your parents ever tell you what you were like, when you were a baby?"

Daryl shrugged and bit at his lip. "Not really. Merle was always the one lookin' after me; or at least, that's what he told me. Slept in some bin filled with pillows next to his bed."

"Like Judy."

"Mm," Daryl nodded the affirmative, "He said I was quiet. Always been, I suppose. But it's a good thing, might not have made it…" He cut himself off mid-sentence, realizing that the direction he was taking it might bring the conversation to a level he wasn't comfortable with.

Beth gazed at him warmly. "You're a good man, Daryl."

Daryl snorted and crossed his arms over his chest uncomfortably. "How's that?"

She took a step towards him and wrapped her arms around his middle. "You want Judy to have things you didn't. You take care of her even though she isn't yours. Treat her like family. Better than family. Like I said, a _good man_."

Daryl unwound his arms from his chest and pressed a light kiss to the top of her head. "C'mon," he demanded gently. They were better off spending as little time away from the prison as possible.

In the end, it took almost no time at all for Daryl to spot what he was looking for. Right in the back of Babies R Us, amongst all the brightly colored toys and overly-complicates strollers, was a brawny, smooth, solid mahogany crib. It stood out from the rest; the only one amongst them that wasn't composed of mesh and plastic. Judy deserved better than plastic.

"That's the one," he announced, and looked back to find Beth smiling widely at him. "What?"

"I knew you'd pick that one," she said with a shrug.

"Oh really?"

"Mmhmm. It's very _you._ I knew for certain you'd go for something wooden. And this one…it's absolutely the one you would pick. Not a doubt in my mind."

"So, ya like it?"

"It's perfect."

Daryl shot her a small smile and they worked together to haul the impressive piece of craftsmanship outside and into the bed of the truck. Beth slid into the passenger seat, and Daryl carefully closed the door to her side. He looked back at the building appraisingly.

"Just stay here a sec, alright? One more thing I wanna get."

"But-"

"I'll only be a minute, I swear," Daryl promised, before jogging back into the building.

He swerved through the aisles with a clear destination in mind. _Can't take the one on display; won't be able to hide that when I go back out to the truck._ So instead, he memorized the item number and headed through the doors labeled "Employees Only."

"For fuck's sake," he cursed under his breath when he trotted up the steps and found the door at the top locked, "Who the hell would wanna loot a baby store anyways?"

He used the butt of his rifle to pop off the handle, and hastily stepped inside. The storage area was well-organized and completely untouched. Following the signs on the aisles, he quickly found the item he was looking for. It was only when he turned to weave his way back out of the building that he heard the moans.

_Fuck. Of course that's why the door was locked._

Daryl rounded the corner cautiously, hoping to make a break for the door before they spotted him. But what he'd thought had been noises coming from his left had in fact echoed across the strangely-shaped aisles. They were everywhere; staggering down rows from his left, right, and front. He couldn't even get a clear line of vision to the door. So he turned on a dime, and he ran.

It was mid-sprint that he realized the other side of the storage room was solid glass; window after window from ceiling to floor with no means to open them. So a split-second later, he opted for the next best thing. Daryl went plummeting through the solid glass with as much force as he could muster.

He barely registered the pain as he fell, and even less so when he hit the ground. He'd managed to spin himself around as he hit the solid pane so that his face was protected, and when he opened his eyes, he was laid out flat on his back. Daryl looked up just in time to see the first of the walkers plunging after him.

_You stupid fucks_, Daryl thought bitterly. Pain began to radiate out across his body. He couldn't quite pinpoint yet where he was injured, but he wasn't entirely sure he'd be able to roll out of danger fast enough. With package still clutched in his hands, Daryl struggled to turn onto his side, only to jolt violently when two strong hands heaved him up by his armpits.

Except they weren't the hands of a stranger. He wasn't being attacked by some ironically helpful walker. It was Beth at his back, hoisting him to his feet and scolding him incessantly, though he wasn't too focused on her words, at the moment.

Using her as a crutch, they hurried back to truck and Beth all but threw him into the passenger seat, slamming the door behind him and pealing out of the parking lot as the walkers who'd fallen after Daryl began to hastily get to their feet.

Beth's mouth was in constant motion; that Daryl knew. But he couldn't hear her much, or at all, over the vibrating ring of his ears. _Must have hit my head_, he thought uselessly, feeling too nauseous to provide an explanation to the livid woman next to him. They were barreling down the road, vehicle jerking wildly to avoid the debris and abandoned vehicles, and every rough movement left Daryl clutching his stomach.

He was about to beg her, fucking _beg_ for them to stop, when the car came to a screeching halt in front of a building he didn't recognize. Before he could question her much- not that he'd be able to hear the answer over the buzzing in his brain- Beth had hopped out of the car and was helping him walk towards the building. Together, they climbed a single set of stairs, and entered a room with a door marked 5A.

She deposited him on the couch and disappeared into the bathroom, reemerging a moment later with a first aid kit.

Daryl squinted and tried to focus on the scene around them, as the vicious white-noise in his head slowly lessened. Beth knelt in front of him and began to go through her findings, picking out some sort of ointment, and a kit Daryl knew was only used for stitches.

"Why'd we stop?" he rasped, and Beth shot him an exasperated glare.

"You're hurt."

"Could just, get Hershel to…"

"Daryl, do you have any idea how much you're bleeding?" Beth interrupted him, now looking more alarmed than angry. "You took a dive from a second-story window and landed in a pool of glass. If we hadn't stopped, you would have bled out before we made it home."

All at once, Daryl registered the wicked sting and burn. _His back_. He'd landed on his back, and when he looked down he could see the worrying amount of blood that had pooled on the leather couch around him, even during the short time he'd been sitting there.

"Get your shirt off," Beth instructed in a no-nonsense voice.

"M'fine," he weakly protested, and Beth shot daggers at him with her eyes.

"Daryl, we don't have time for this. Do it now," she growled, and Daryl thought he'd never heard Beth this angry before.

"I've had worse," he then tried, "Could just, get some sleep. Then I'll be good to go back…"

"_Daryl!_" Beth interjected for the last time. But when she met his eyes, and saw the fear and anxiety there, her face softened. "I've already _seen_ them," she told him, "At the farm. They didn't change how I felt about you then, and they won't now. I need you, remember? That means you don't get to die on a run where _I _was the one that was supposed to have your back."

"S'not your fault," Daryl rasped, "Never cleared the second floor. Shouldn'ta gone up there on my own."

"No, you shouldn't have," Beth agreed as she began to unbutton his shirt. "But you did, and you're hurt, so you need to let me take care of you now." She slipped the soiled flannel from his shoulders. "Lay on your front for me."

Daryl eyed her pleadingly. "Just don't…don't say nothin', alright?" he begged. But despite his protests, Daryl moved to lie on his stomach. Beth immediately got to work on his back, clearing out the glass and stitching up all the cuts that merited immediate attention.

The archer lay eerily still, wincing intermittently and biting at his lip but otherwise keeping silent. Even as Beth pulled an alarmingly long piece of glass from his side, Daryl hardly reacted.

"You said you've been hurt worse," she murmured.

"Mm," he grunted.

"Why don't you tell me about it? A time you were hurt worse."

Daryl watched her from under his wispy bangs. "Ya don't wanna hear that stuff, Beth."

"I do. I want to hear everything about you. And it might help, don't you think? Maybe talking about a time you were hurting worse than this will make _this_ time hurt a little less."

"M'not sure that's how it works," he mumbled.

"But it's worth a shot, isn't it?" Beth replied lightly.

There was a long pause, before Daryl hurriedly murmured, "I ever tell ya how my Mom died?"

"No, you haven't," Beth replied cautiously.

"I was seven. Out playin' with some kids in the neighborhood. Came back down my block and saw all these fire trucks outside my house. She got drunk, and was smokin'. Burnt the whole damn house down with her in it."

"I'm sorry," Beth whispered.

"Don't need ya to be. Damn likely that it was on purpose anyways. Wasn't exactly the first time she'd done somethin' like that. I guess…I wasn't too surprised. But we had this trailer out in the sticks, so the three of us went out there, after the cops left. Didn't have anywhere else to go."

Daryl took a deep, shuddering breath.

"That was the first night my Dad came after me. Usually it was just my Mom, and Merle. Merle'd provoke him half the time, to try and protect us. But my Dad…never seen him like that. He was always pissed, always an asshole, but that was…he knocked out Merle pretty easy. And usually that woulda been enough for him. But he was still mad. So fuckin' mad. Kept sayin' it was my fault-"

"You know that's not true," Beth abruptly interrupted, because she _had _to.

"Yeah…suppose if someone wants to opt out, there ain't a whole lot you can do to stop 'em. But that night…that's when I got most of the scars. Think 'cuz it was the first time, it hurt more. He just kept at it 'til he passed out. Or 'til I passed out. Don't really remember."

"What did Merle do, when he found out?"

"Never told him. It woulda killed him, ya know? It was the one thing he thought he was doin' right, keepin' Dad away from me. And we'd just lost our…I didn't want him to go off the deep end. OD or somethin'. He didn't find out 'bout the scars 'til after the Governor, and even then it was by accident."

"You miss him," she said softly. It wasn't a question.

"Mm."

"You don't have to hide that, you know. Just because some of the others didn't get along with him…you can still talk about him. Tell _me_ about him. I want to hear."

Daryl sighed, "It ain't that. S'just… was my fault…"

"Daryl, how can you think that?" Beth whispered sharply. "Merle…that was not on you."

"He did it for me. 'Cuz he was guilty, 'bout my Dad…"

"He didn't do it out of guilt, Daryl. He did it out of love. He _loved _you, and wanted to protect you. Merle was a complicated man, but you were always the most important thing to him. It was obvious, to anyone who met him. He went after the Governor because he wanted you to be safe. That was everything to him."

"It shouldn't have happened like that," Daryl mumbled, and his voice cracked. "I shoulda been there…"

"Merle knew you loved him, too. That's all you can ask for, these days." Beth gently wiped away the remaining blood from his back. "All done."

He gave her a faint smile. "Ya did a good job. Hardly felt it."

Beth grinned at him. "Daryl Dixon, you're a terrible liar."

He snorted, then grimaced a bit at the sudden jolt of pain. "Can't blame a man for tryin'."

"No, I can't," she agreed. "Come on. Let's go lay in bed. I'm pretty sure you have a concussion, so you shouldn't sleep, but at least it'll be more comfortable."

Beth lay on her back next to Daryl. "What do you think Merle would have thought … about us?"

Daryl gnawed on his lower lip in contemplation. "Woulda said you were too good for me. Too pretty. Can't help but agree with him on that one."

"_Daryl_," Beth said with a tone of mock-warning.

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered in good humor. "Probably woulda shit a brick if he found out 'bout all the kinky shit we do. Called me a pussy."

"Oh, so we're kinky now?" Beth laughed.

"Well, what else ya gonna call it?"

"I was thinking: open minded."

Daryl chuckled, "S'the same damn thing." He shoved the pillow further under his head so he could look at her properly. "Honestly, I'm not so sure what he woulda thought. Never had somethin' like this before. Figure he woulda been happy, though, that there was some chick out there who'd put up with my bullshit."

"It's not _all_ bullshit," Beth murmured, and Daryl rewarded her with a genuine smirk.

Beth leaned on her side and ran her fingers lightly over his back, careful to avoid his new wounds. He flinched anyways, though not out of pain. "They aren't as bad as you think. We've all got scars."

"Yeah, but mine are uglier," Daryl said, reaching out to stroke the inside of Beth's wrist. His thumb lazed back and forth over the faintly white, raised line.

"Does it bother you?" she asked.

There was a pregnant pause, before Daryl murmured, "Yeah. It does." Then after a beat, "Sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry for being honest. But you don't have to worry about me doing something like that again. I'm stronger now. You've made me stronger."

"Ya gotta be strong without me, though. I might not always be there."

"You will if I have anything to say about it," Beth argued lightly, and Daryl hummed his assent. Despite the unfamiliarity of where Beth was touching him, Daryl found himself relaxing into the bed, no longer jolting each time she grazed over an old scar.

"Gonna fall asleep if ya keep that up," Daryl murmured, as Beth continued to trail her fingertips up and down his back and into his hair, stroking gently. "Oughta tell me a story or somethin'. Gimme something to stay awake for."

Beth smiled down at him. "A story huh? Alright…"


	9. Chapter 9

I am SO SORRY that it took me so long to update. It may or may not have taken me a while to get over the MSF. But the Bethyl ship lives on, and so do I. I hope you guys like this chapter! It's sort of extra long to make up for my absence :)

**Chapter Nine**

_Once upon a time, there was a girl. Her name was…Bella. And she had blonde hair, and blue eyes. She was just fifteen years old, walking home from school one day, when she heard a scream. She knew the voice was coming from a boy, but she didn't recognize it. And she knew from the way his voice kept cracking and punching out that he was in pain. A lot of it._

_She trotted faster, then ran towards what she thought was the source, rounding the corner of an old abandoned barn and freezing in her tracks when she spotted them. There was a boy huddled on the ground, still screaming for help, while three men kicked him, and laughed. _

_There was a pitchfork leaned up against the barn, and Bella didn't really think much before she grabbed it. She hollered at the top of her lungs, and charged at them. It was a stupid thing to do, but she didn't have a phone to call for help, and she couldn't, _couldn't, _just leave him there. Luckily for her, the shock of that small little girl charging forward with a weapon in hand was enough to send those three men packing. They took off in the opposite direction, jumping into some idling car. Then they were gone._

_"Oh my god, are you alright?!"_

_The boy groaned lowly, rolling himself onto his back and panting hard. He had dirty blonde hair that fell over his eyes and she recognized a fair amount of blood seeping through his clothing. She reached out to touch him and he jerked away, frightened._

_"I'm sorry!" she immediately amended, "I just want to help, okay? Please let me help you."_

_Slowly, he sat himself up, watching Bella carefully. "I'm…okay," he rasped, "Thank you."_

_"I don't have a phone. But my house is another mile east, I can go call for help—"_

_"No!" the boy interrupted her, "Please, no cops. No hospitals. I just need to get home."_

_"But, the blood…" Bella whispered, staring down at his jeans. He followed her gaze._

_"It's old," he eventually muttered, "Had me for a while. Drove me out here to get rid of me. I just need to get home."_

_It was only then that Bella realized just what the boy was insinuating. Between the placement of the blood on his clothes, and the viciousness of those men…they_ had him, _the boy had said_._ She sat back on her knees next to him, trying not to cry._

_"Can you walk?" she asked him, and he nodded._

_"With some help, yeah."_

_"Okay. My farm's not too far from here. We can walk there together. I'll get my Daddy's truck and I'll take you wherever you need to go. The rest of my family won't be home until tonight, anyways. They'll never notice it was gone."_

_The boy regarded her for a moment, "You don't have to. I could just…hitchhike. Or walk. I could…"_

_"No, you couldn't. And there isn't a chance in hell I'd _let_ you, okay?"_

_He bit at his lip contemplatively, then asked her one more question, "What's your name?"_

_"Bella," she replied with a small smile. "Am I allowed to ask yours?"_

_"Jesse," he murmured, gazing at her with an open, but unreadable expression._

"You just went charging at three dudes beating the shit out of a kid?" Daryl abruptly interrupted.

"_Bella_ did," Beth reminded him playfully.

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "And I'm supposed to believe the chick with blonde hair and blue eyes ain't you?"

"It's a story, remember? Now be quiet and let me finish."

Daryl settled back against the pillows, watching Beth fixedly.

_The walk back to Bella's farm wasn't easy. She'd had less than a mile to go, but with Jesse's limping, it took them nearly an hour. She ran inside once they arrived, leaving a quick note for her Daddy explaining her absence, then grabbed the car keys off the mantle. _

_Jesse hissed in pain when he slid into the passenger side of the car, and Bella regarded him for a beat before asking, "Maybe it would be easier if you were laying on your side? You could put your head in my lap. I mean, if you want. You must be tired."_

_She could tell Jesse was wary of her suggestion. But for whatever the reason, probably the pain and exhaustion, he slowly lowered himself to his side, and rested his head on her lap. He mumbled out some directions, an apartment building a few miles outside of town, and then he was out like a light._

_Once they arrived, she roused him gently, and they worked together to get up the stairs to apartment 5A. He'd left a key under the mat, and finally, she got him inside and over to the couch. _

_"Thank you," he let out in a huff of breath when he had settled down, "Thank you."_

_"Do you have a first aid kit? If you're still bleeding…"_

_"You should go, Bella," Jesse interrupted. "You've done enough, already. I can take care of the rest."_

_"Jesse, you can hardly move. I'm not just going to _leave_."_

_He let out a long sigh. "You're real stubborn for a farmer's daughter, ya know that? Look I…I can take care of most of it myself. But there's some cuts on my back…"_

_"Okay, just tell me what you need," Bella said eagerly._

_"I ain't gonna do it in _front_ of you," he scoffed, "Just help me get to the bathroom, alright?"_

_Bella did as he asked, then waited worriedly on the couch for him to return. A good fifteen minutes later, she heard the shower going, and figured the worst of it must be over. He emerged after some time, a white towel wrapped around his waist. Bella had never seen that much of a man before. And even though Jesse only had three or four years on her, man was the only word that could encompass him._

_He winced slightly as he padded his way over to the bed, holding the first aid kit in one hand and keeping his towel up with the other. Jesse's middle was already all shades of black and blue, and his back had several deep gashes, mostly healed but still oozing blood from his scrubbing. _

_Bella wordlessly went to sit by his side, and didn't wait for permission before beginning to methodically clean and treat his cuts. She remembered a time before when she'd seen wounds like the ones on Jesse's back. She'd been home sick from school, watching her Daddy work, and a man had rolled up with a big trailer behind his car. In the trailer was a horse, and the man said he'd been forcibly removed from an abusive farm, reclaimed by the state. The poor beast had long gashes all over its body, and Bella remembered the man saying it had been whipped with a belt, on and off for years._

_Just like the horse, Jesse flinched at every small touch, and didn't seem the least bit comfortable to have Bella sitting behind him like she was. So when she was done, she moved her hands to his shoulders, and began to slowly massage the tension from his body._

_That, at least, seemed to work. After a few minutes, she could see from Jesse's posture that he'd finally relaxed. She got up on her knees behind him, intent on working out the kink in his shoulder. But when she looked over his shoulder into his lap, what she saw made them both blush._

_"I'm sorry," he immediately muttered, trying to pull away, "Shit, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to—"_

_"Jesse, wait," Bella demanded, and he turned to look at her, "I'm not mad. See? I'm not. I get it."_

_"You do? 'Cuz I sure don't. Jesus, you're just a kid, and I'm—"_

_"You want to feel something good," she whispered, and he stared at her wide-eyed. "It's what you need right now. And that's okay." She scooted closer to him on the bed, slowly reaching to pull the towel away. He let her._

_Bella couldn't help but gasp a little when she saw him. But she'd read magazines before, overheard Maggie and her friends talking about this kind of thing. So Bella didn't hesitate to take him in her hand, and stroke him once from root to tip. _

_But instead of moaning in pleasure, Jesse jerked out of her grasp, letting out a small whimper and mumbling, "I can't. I can't like that."_

_"But you want to," Bella countered. "I can _see _you do. So what is it? What do you need?"_

_He eyed her pleadingly, but said nothing. _

_"You can tell me," Bella whispered. "Whatever it is, I _want_ to do it."_

_He shuddered noticeably at her words, then nodded his chin towards his bedside table. "They're in the drawer," he murmured._

_She leaned over him and peered inside. On top of an assortment of items that she couldn't begin to identify was one device that stood out among the rest, shiny and well-kept, and sitting upon a satin cloth. Handcuffs._

"Beth?" Daryl interrupted for a second time. "We in his apartment?"

Beth let out a deep sigh. "Yeah. We are."

"Why…why are ya tellin' me all this?"

"Because you've asked me so many times, why I want you the way I do. Why I do the things I do. And this is why. Or at least, this is how it started. Where I learned it all. But Daryl, I didn't love him. Didn't think I did, not even then. And he never touched me. Nothing, not once. So really, you were still my first. For just about everything."

Daryl tried not to twist those words around in his mind._ She didn't love him. She didn't love _him._ She didn't _love _him. _Daryl shook his head to clear it.

"So…ya didn't do nothin' together?"

"Not even a kiss," Beth promised, "I wasn't lying when I said you were the first to see me, the first I let watch me, like _that_. And I'm still, ya know…a virgin."

She said the last word in a whisper, the first time Beth had seemed the least bit embarrassed when it came to anything sexual.

"Oh," he replied dumbly.

"Yup," she agreed cheerfully enough. "Oh."

He gnawed awkwardly at his thumb. "How long were ya with him?"

"Just a few months."

"You broke it off?"

"He wanted things I couldn't give him. Wouldn't."

"Sex," Daryl said bluntly.

Beth let out a slow breath. "Yeah. Pretty much." She reached out to intertwine her fingers with Daryl's, moving onto her side so she could look at him properly. "But it was nothing like this, with you."

Daryl nodded thoughtfully, "When we started to…do stuff, was it 'cuz I reminded you of him?"

"Daryl Dixon, I wanted you for a long, long time before I managed to nab you," Beth said with a soft smile. "The _way_ I went about it…well, part of that was from him. He'd been hurt, and he needed it. I thought maybe you'd need the same. I just took my cues from you; tried to figure out what worked."

There was a long pause before Daryl mumbled, "M'glad ya told me."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. S'pose so. Don't much like hearin' about you with another man, but it ain't like I was celibate before you. Can't really complain."

"You were my first in all the ways that matter," Beth reminded him, "The first to see me. The first to touch me." He kissed her knuckles, one at a time.

"Wouldn't mind touchin' you right now," he drawled, with that dangerous glimmer in his eye.

"You're _hurt_," Beth sternly reminded him.

"Bet it'd make me feel better," he said with a grin.

She smacked him lightly on his forearm. "Typical," she scoffed, but she couldn't hide her wide smile.

Beth let Daryl sleep, finally. She spent the night waking him every couple hours, checking on his head and his back. When she woke up the next morning with a start, Daryl was out of bed, wandering around the apartment in only his jeans.

She crept up behind him, knowing full and well that he'd hear her coming, and snaked her arms carefully around his waist, putting no pressure on the dressings covering his back. "Mornin', Mr. Dixon."

"Mornin' baby," he mumbled sleepily. "Sorry I kept ya up."

"Don't be. I like taking care of you. How's your back?"

"Don't hurt as much today. I heal fast," he said with a shrug.

He was looking inside another one of Jesse's drawers, a drawer Beth knew positively would make the man at her side blush.

"Don't even know what most of this stuff does," he admitted softly. He picked up a white, phallic shaped toy, with two long, malleable tails. "How come he's got one of these? Thought he didn't use this stuff on you."

"He didn't. All these things were for _him._"

Daryl's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and he examined the object in his hand more closely. "So he uh...he put this…put it…?" Daryl stuttered out, and Beth smiled softly at him.

"It's all very clean, don't worry. And yes, he did. Men have a spot inside that makes it feel good. Toys like these, they press up against it. That's what they're for."

"So you've used all this stuff?"

"Pretty much. Some more than others."

"Did you like it?"

That question took Beth by surprise. For all the things Jesse and she had done together, she'd been entirely focused on his needs. She enjoyed the power he gave her, enjoyed the sounds and faces he'd make. But she hadn't put too much thought into how she felt about the means.

"I liked that he liked it," Beth said finally. "But a lot of these things, I'd never want to use with you."

"Like what?"

"Over there," Beth said, pointing towards a tall cabinet. "Whips. Clamps. I'd be happy if I never saw any of it again. I don't like hurting people. And I could never live with myself if I hurt you."

"We don't gotta do anything like that," Daryl said quickly, "But if there was stuff that ya wanted to…try?"

A slow smile dawned over Beth's face. "Is there anything _you_ want to try?"

"Dunno where to start, to be honest. Can't name half the shit in that drawer. Wouldn't mind being shown, though. If you're offering." He gave her a devious wink, and Beth laughed aloud.

"Daryl Dixon, you're _hurt_!"

"Hardly," he scoffed, "My back ain't gonna go burstin' open just 'cuz we fooled around a little."

Beth winced, "Thank you for the imagery. But you really want to do this now? Here?"

"Kinda like the idea, actually," Daryl drawled all too casually.

Beth eyed him suspiciously. "Marking your territory?"

"Somethin' like that," he said, taking a step towards her. "Getting to touch you in his apartment. His bed…" Daryl pulled Beth against him by her belt-loops. "You're _mine_ now."

"And what are you going to do with me then?" Beth asked him innocently. A second later, he'd hoisted her up onto the desk, and was fighting to rip her jeans off her body.

"Don't you dare hurt yourself!" Beth half-growled half-giggled, when Daryl dropped to his knees in front of her.

"Ain't gonna get hurt. Desk's the perfect height," he declared with a grin, before pulling her to the edge of the desk and wrenching her legs apart. And for a man who'd only gone down once in his life, he wasn't the least bit hesitant. He lapped at her with the flat of his tongue, alternating between hard and soft and listening for the right sounds. When Beth's thighs trembled around his head, Daryl knew he'd gotten it right.

He held her steady as his tongue twirled around her clit, sending her soaring over the edge with a loud moan of _his_ name. "Oh my god, _Daryl_," she breathed again, taking in his glistening chin and proud smirk.

Daryl got to his feet, letting out a huff of surprise when Beth pulled him forward to kiss him. He groaned into her mouth, throbbing in his jeans.

"C'mon," he quickly mumbled, jerking her to her feet. "Pick somethin'." He nodded towards the drawer.

"Don't you want to do the picking?" she asked him.

"Nah," he said with a shrug, "I trust you. Wouldn't know what to pick, anyways."

"Well is there anything you don't want?"

"Just pick somethin', Greene," he said with a taunt to his voice.

"Fine. I will. And why don't you take off the rest of your clothes and wait?"

She turned her back to him, smiling when he hurriedly jerked open his fly, and fought to skim out of his clothing. Beth grabbed a careful assortment of items, then held them behind her back when she walked back over to Daryl. He was standing with his back to the wall, clearly trying to hide his attempts to spot what she was holding.

"We've tried something like this before, and it didn't go very well," she began, dropping her findings to the bed and maneuvering Daryl until he was standing against the wall. "So this time we'll talk it through first. You're going to stand for me. And I'm going to tie your hands a little differently than usual. Then, I'm going to make you feel good, but I want you to show restraint. I'm going to get you close, so close to coming that you can't breathe, but I'm not going to let you. Not until you're ready."

Daryl swallowed hard, "Didn't really like that, last time."

"I know. But this time will be different. You'll pick a safe word, so that if you need to stop I'll know right away. And you won't beg. I don't want that, and I know you don't either. But when you hold yourself back, Daryl, it feels so good later. I promise you. So it won't be about me letting you come, so much. You'll decide for yourself. I'll just help you get there. Okay?"

He nodded and pulled her towards him, kissing her once, deeply, before breathing out, "Safe word's Hershel. Alright? Ain't nothin' gonna put us out of the mood faster than that."

Beth giggled and went to tie his arms. There were hooks on the ceiling above their heads, and Beth deftly thread some pliant, soft rope through both, then tied Daryl's wrists in an easy knot. She kicked at the inside of his foot, and he opened his legs wider, standing spread eagle in front of her, and still trying to spot what she had dropped on the bed behind her.

With Daryl's arms above his head, and his legs spread wide enough for his muscles to twitch every so often at the burn, Beth leaned forward and kissed him. Her mouth went to his neck, then trailed slowly down his chest. She licked along the length of his hip bones, sucking at a small piece of skin until she knew it would bruise.

On her knees in front of him, she ran her fingertips up his thighs, smiling when he shivered. Daryl heard the faint click of a cap opening. Then quite suddenly, Beth's mouth was warm and wet around his cock, and a finger was slowly rubbing much further south, slick with lube.

Her tongue swirled around the head, and he bit out a desperate moan, "Fuck, Beth." His cock pulsed, already more than craving the promise of release, and Beth's finger slipped inside.

"Jesus," he breathed, wincing at the barely-there burn. Beth pulled away from him, mouthing along his thigh.

"That alright?" she murmured.

"S'weird," he replied, frowning a little as she probed carefully inside.

All at once, Daryl's body seized up tight as wire around her finger, and he panted, "Ha- fuck, oh fuck."

Beth had found that spot inside, and once she began to massage it slowly, Daryl came alive, hips stuttering forward and back, body wholly unsure of which way to turn for more.

"Beth," he whispered, "Jesus, Beth."

"I think you're ready," she murmured mostly to herself, pulling away from him briefly. She grabbed something off of the bed, and Daryl knew what it was as soon as he saw it. White, relatively thin, and shaped a lot like the one he'd held earlier, with the exception that it clearly contained a motor. He watched her slick it up with lube, then go to kneel again at his feet.

Beth swallowed him down, and any small flicker of fear was immediately extinguished with a grateful moan. She bobbed along his length, tongue tracing the vein that ran underneath, and distracting Daryl just enough to slide the toy slowly inside. He let out a small grunt of discomfort, and his body tensed. But when Beth's mouth continued to glide along his length, the rest of him relaxed into the feeling.

She let it rest against that spot inside of him, allowed his body's natural movements to move it gently. Then Beth sat back on her heels, and looked up at him, licking her lips.

"I'm going to turn it on, now. We can stop whenever you want. Okay?"

And when he nodded quickly, Beth flicked the switch at the bottom of the toy, and Daryl's mouth dropped open into a gasp. She watched his cock twitch and jerk, precum pearling at the tip and dripping down.

"Oh fuck, fuck Beth," he moaned, body grinding forward desperately.

When she took him back in her mouth, his entire body shook at the sensation. She held his balls in one hand, felt them draw up towards his body.

She released him with a slick pop, and Daryl whined at the loss.

"How do you feel?" she asked him, her voice low and breathy.

"Beth…"

"Tell me, I want to hear you," she encouraged him.

Blue eyes darted down to hers, brimming with shocked arousal at the circumstances. His cock twitched and bobbed in the open air, leaking steadily. Beth bent forward and lapped lazily at the head, sucking hard when Daryl keened above her, head dropping back and eyes slamming shut.

"Fuck, Beth, stop- I'm gonna- fuck…" he huffed, hands fisting the ropes that held him in a fight for control. "Jesus, just gimme a second."

He stood panting at the ceiling, every other breath a moan. And Beth waited until those cerulean blue orbs met hers, before again suckling at the reddened head. It was only a minute before he was chanting her name again.

"Baby, I'm gonna…fuck, fuck, I can't," he groaned, entire body jerking forward with need.

Her hands and mouth instantly abandoned him. Daryl watched Beth lick her lips, and reach down between her own thighs.

"Fuck, baby…" he breathed, tone all admiration and need. She touched herself slowly, teasingly, and watched his cock pulse in response. One hand went to his balls, still tight up against his body. She gently pulled downwards, holding them in the palm of her hand when she leaned forward once more to swallow him down.

"Beth, _Beth_," he whimpered. His legs were shaking, and Beth knew he couldn't take much more. The toy continued to trill away inside, and she could see how every small movement wrecked him, filled him with sensations that were new and intense.

She snaked a hand between his thighs and palmed his ass, pushing him forward. Then she did it again. With two hands guiding his hips, Beth let Daryl fuck her mouth, enjoying the shock on his face when he realized just what she wanted. And it was oh so worth it when the archer threw his head back in a rumbling groan. The toy was jostled with each thrust of his hips. He wasn't going to last.

"Beth, Beth, oh fuck," he moaned, "Gonna cum. Please, baby. Don't stop. God, don't stop."

Abruptly, Daryl's body seized into a moment of bliss. He erupted with a gasp, cock pulsing cum down Beth's throat. Every muscle twitched with the intensity of the moment, and he barely pulled in the air to whimper as his orgasm crashed through his body.

"Oh god," he moaned, as Beth sucked every last dribble of cum from his body. He couldn't stop shaking. "Baby, please…"

She flicked off the switch of the toy, and pulled it gently from him. And in no time at all, Beth was on her feet, untying Daryl's hands and rubbing tenderly at his wrists. She kissed him hard, despite his panting, and waited for him to look her in the eye.

"Was that alright?" she asked him when he'd finally caught his breath. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest.

"One of these days, you're gonna kill me Greene," he murmured, burying his face in his hair.

She let out a light laugh. "Well at least you'll die happy."

And he couldn't exactly argue with that.


End file.
